#i tried. not to put too many gotham monsters..so sorry if some of your gotham monster biases got snubbed

[jesncin]

Ma'alefa'ak, the people would like to know your top 10 monsters from less to most boink worthy, you're allowed 3 honorific mentions and no Johnstantine monster forms

in the spirit of Ma'al ranking the Green Lanterns, here's Ma'al's random opinions on most characters that pop up in DC top 10 monsters lists:

for the three honorific mentions:

Ma'al doesn't have a "top 10" because "nobody tops me unless I tell them to" and his opinions on who's most boinkable are susceptible to change from his mood, the vibes, the weather, the seasons, the alignment of the stars, etc.

[poisonousquinzel]

"HQTAS not having the balls to permanently kill Joker off continues to be one of its biggest faults and I will not forgive them for that."

Their biggest fault is causing the upsurgence of casual pro Joker posts in Harley's tag in light of episodes showing him being "normal" and "based" and "wow look at him! being a socialist! and wanting healthcare!"

wow! it's almost like I don't really give a shit what political stance this domestic abuser takes in this show called Harley Quinn, ya know, the name of the ex he violently and graphically abused throughout the entirety of their relationship?

But oh! Whatever! if he's turned over a new leaf, Who cares! The past's the past's and the writers would rather redeem him! For some stupid ass reason! (Spoiler alert: It's because he's popular and they're cowards)

So let's forget how he literally murdered Poison Ivy!

& forget how he tortured her crew! And planned to have them publicly executed ! Lol!!

He's a cool dad now! He's hip! Whoo!!

Forget about all that abuse in the first season haha! It wasn't plot important anyway!

What's PTSD?! That's not a thing lol Harley would totally not have PTSD from him, they're buddies now! just ignore the little bits of obvious lasting trauma like her flinching

he's taking over her twitter! so sorry if you happen to follow this account and find him triggering or anything lol cause he's hijacking it for his run for mayor! & now he's all over your timeline,, isn't he quirky

He makes jokes about limber she is-- while her private sexual encounter is being broadcasted to all of Gotham WITHOUT HER CONSENT-- and how "violence was a hallmark of our relationship too", cause he's just such a fucking peach now y'all

That was last season.

In episode 12.

While he had a Girlfriend.

He has not owned up to his own actions.

He's not some Reformed Domestic Abuser who's long since changed, shown he's changed and is sorry for what he did because he has not even taken accountability for the fact that No, violence wasn't a "hallmark of their relationship." It wasn't some quirky occurrence to look back at with a sigh of fondness.

Abuse was the staple of their relationship. Abuse that was inflicted by his fucking hands.

The Joker is a monster.

Harley Quinn: The Animated Series version of him is one just as well.

Even just from the part of the cycle we saw from Season 1, he was absolutely at his worst. It's not even like they toned it down for this, they built him up to be the monster that he is and then tried to backpedal and are now pretending he's just a completely different dude now that he's not with Harley.

News Flash, but Harley wasn't the first woman Joker's manipulated into helping him while simultaneously leading them to believe they were mutually falling in love

She's just one of the only survivors.

Because that's what she did. For years. Survived.

And sorryyyy, but I ain't exactly known for looking past The Joker's abusive transgressions and I'm sure as shit not starting now just because he's had a pitifully rushed "redemption" arc with some poorly iced He's A Socialist frosting on top.

Or am I supposed to pretend like in Season 1, Episode 8 he didn't put his manipulation skills to full use and, to add insult to injury, knowing he was going to push her out of the plane, he still kissed her.

Multiple times.

He initiated the kiss. He moved down her neck.

There was no fucking reason he needed to do that. It was just another thing he knew he could do to hurt her.

He pushed so many lines in that episode and then immediately shoved her out of a plane.

He relished in it.

Knowing how much trust she'd just put in him, how much she'd let her guard down and trusted him. She just admitted she dreamed of these moments, of escaping with him.

Because he had abandoned her so many fucking times.

Harley: I used to dream about this moment.

The Joker, laughing amusedly: Oh, Harley, I couldn't leave you on the boat.

I need you.

And then he kissed her! He fucking kissed her!

The Joker: For this.

He pulls her in and repeatedly kisses her.

Harley, making happy noises of approval and giddiness as she kisses him back.

The Joker, quietly as he kisses her neck: That's it.

Batman appears next to them, but Harley's none the wiser as she's gazing happily up at him.

The Joker: And this! Aha Ha Ha Ha!

He violently shoves her through the door of the plane into open air, cackling maniacally.

And she trusted him.

Harley trusted that this time was different. Because she wasn't his henchwoman anymore, she wasn't Her anymore. This was different. She'd escaped with him! They were on equal grounds now...

He respected her. She was important. She was a part of The Legion of Doom. She was a big shot now.

And that's exactly what he meant to do. Because he knew he had to this time, he had to lure her deeper. He had to slather the love bombing on thick to get her to drop her guard.

He had to pretend he was fine with them being equals.

So he did.

He pretended and he acted and he played her. He was cruel.

The mask did have cracks, it absolutely did. It angered him having her correct him and it angered him having to pretend he found her to be a master equal to him.

The Joker: No, I believe it's the student becomes A Master equal to the original master, but not with more mastery than that master.

It was something he couldn't pretend for a moment to believe. He couldn't even lower his ego enough to say a quote correctly "The student becomes the master." because he does not value her as equally.

And after love bombing her all evening long, after watching her drop her guard.

After she admitted she'd dreamed of these moments of escaping with him. After he kissed her.

He shoves her out of a plane once Batman has caught up with them.

Grinning like a maniac.

He knew, he always knew. He enjoyed what he did to her and he's never owned up to anything.

Hurting her is a game to him. He enjoys it. He's always fucking enjoyed it.

He murdered her best friend. Happily!

He captured her remaining friends and tortured them. He planned to hold a public execution.

He wanted to entirely isolate her so she'd have no other choice but to return to him, cause there's no other options if he kills them all.

And, then this part.

This is the entire reason this post isn't a reblog because I don't think just making gifs of this scene does it justice in terms of how sinister he sounds so:

The Joker, chuckling: I want you to put this on.

Cackles darkly before throwing it at her.

Come on, remember how much fun you had in that costume?

Harley: No... I didn't have fun... You were the one having fun. It wasn't till I got away from you that I realized how deeply unfun being with you was!

So I would rather blow myself up and take you with me then go back to being your sidekick and wearing that fucking costume!!

The Joker: So, how about you make this easy and put. The Outfit. On.

"violence was a hallmark of our relationship too"

all of this happened in Season 1.

He says that in Season 2 folks.

Again.

Abuse was a hallmark of their relationship. On his part. He was abusive.

That's not what he said. And he said it with a sigh of "ah, good times" vibes

He looks back on his abusive actions with fondness.

He found humor and pleasure in hurting her and thinking back on it is a good memory for him. It's not a Bad Thing he did that he's remorseful for because all those memories are things he views as good moments.

"violence was a hallmark of our relationship too"

Hall-Mark

noun noun: hallmark; plural noun: hallmarks

• a distinctive feature, especially one of excellence.

He didn't do any of this because he had beef with Poison Ivy, or any of the members of her crew individually.

It all had to do with hurting her.

To get one up on her.

He knew Ivy was important to her.

He knew Ivy was a threat to him when it came to achieving his end goal of erasing Harley completely. So he killed her.

He knew hurting her crew would hurt Harley, he knew that having them there would be a failsafe because while he will hurt them, she won't.

Which means her suicide mission of blowing herself up and taking him with her wouldn't work. He knew that when he let her upstairs. The second she was in that room he had essentially defused the bomb.

Cause he knew she'd never take the crew down with her purposefully.

And then when he gets what he wants, she puts on that fucking costume, he doesn't just end it there.

No.

No.

He decides "let's try n break her heartstrings for old times sake" and pulls the love bombing shtick once again.

She doesn't fall for it, but pretends she does so she can get in close to stab him.

The Joker: You were always so unoriginal, stealing my ideas!

But

He was fully going to kill her even if she did fall for it.

Even if she was completely on board with his bullshit, with all the horror he'd done in the past few episodes towards her friends. Even if she was happy to overlook all of that cause he said the right thing, he plucked the right strings and had her swooning.

He was going to stab her.

It didn't matter.

He was going to do it again.

The Joker had no reason to try and woo her back in (What He Believed To Be) the final moments of her life.

He did it because he thought it would be funny to see the tears in her eyes as she realized he had hurt her again.

As she realized he had stabbed her in the stomach.

That's why he did it.

He wanted her to love him again because he wanted to kill That Harley. The one who would feel the most pain from this, emotionally and mentally. He wanted to watch That Harley suffer.

Because he thinks it's funny. He finds pleasure in hurting her.

And this was going to be the final time, the last hurrah.

So he wanted to have her go out with a bang. A shot in the heart.

Because The Joker is a cruel, manipulative monster who gets off on seeing her in pain that he knows he caused.

"violence was a hallmark of our relationship too"

The Joker is not remorseful for the trauma or suffering he caused her. And his political stance doesn't mean fucking shit to me. His rushed redemption doesn't mean anything, it doesn't change his actions towards Harley and his complete disregard for the truth of the matter. He's a fuckhead and he deserved to stay dead.

[catxsnow]

TAKE THE BULLET B.W.

Request:  I saw your post about requests! Can you do a Batman x reader (from the animated movies if you do him) where the reader is apart of the JL and almost dies by jumping in front of a bullet during a mission with the team to save Bruce? Fluffy/angsty stuff. 

Warning: injury, angst, fluff

A/N: I’m so sorry it took this long! It’s been sitting in my WIP for ages and I just never got around to doing it until now 

Gif not mine

Word count: 2.3k 

You knew the risks of being in the Justice League.

A constant target on your back, the willingness to lay down your life to protect the people of your world, even the on demand requirement of your presence when someone was endangering the world. The second that you joined the team, you lost your freedom to have a normal life.

When it came down to it, it was all worth it. Knowing that you saved hundreds, thousands, even millions of lives because you stood up against an evil greater than yourself. The nightmares that haunted your sleep because of the horrors that you saw. The pain you endured because you refused to give up. Everything was worth it.

Your whole life you had been the one to willingly put yourself through all this torture to save lives. It was engraved in you to make the world a better place, no one expected you to make a difference like this one. No one expected you to be a hero, one of the best at that.

For so long you were on your own. You had your friends in your civilian life but no one truly to understand what you had to endure as a superhero. That was until the Justice League formed. It was a rocky start - a bunch of people who didn't believe that they needed to be a part of something bigger.

While many of the heroes found it a burden to have people that relied on you, you found it a blessing. People to finally understand who you were, that accepted you for the person that you were, not some freak. This team meant everything to you, enough that you would give up your life for your teammates.

And that was exactly what you had done. It was a dangerous mission, everyone knew that. As prepared as everyone was, they weren't expecting you to take the bullet for Batman. You saw the blast coming while he was fighting off another monster. There wasn't enough time to get him out of the way and he had no idea that it was coming for him.

So, in a moments haste, you had put yourself between the blast and him. Batman might have driven you crazy half the time, but he was only human under that suit. He would have never survived the blast. You barely did and your suit was impenetrable.

Batman didn't make friends. He didn't stick around to get to know his teammates and he certainly wasn't chatty with anyone. You found him insufferable most of the time but that small part of you couldn't help but be intrigued by him. Batman acted as if he were Superman even though a bullet would stop him just as it would anyone else.

He was meticulous with everything he did. No matter the situation, he knew every detail about everything. Batman was cold hearted, except for the split second time that you got to see him smile.

The team watched in horror as you fell to the cement. Your suit was half disintegrated and your breathing shallow. The blast had almost killed you. Almost.

It was Hal that got you out of there, bringing you to safety and away from the fight that you could no longer be a part of. Everyone had seen you go down. As devastation filled them, so did determination. They couldn't lose this fight, not after what you had done for them all. Batman most of all.

Only when you were safe in the infamous Batcave did Hal leave your side again. At the moment, there was no better place for you. He knew the secret identity of Batman, he also knew that Bruce was going to want to be the one to help you. After that night, he owed you a life debt.

As much as Batman liked to make everyone think he was invincible, he was only human. Humans had a heart, and with that little move that you did, you had gotten right into his.

><

You woke up cold. The air was still and held a frosty bite to it. Your whole body ached and as you tried to move it flared even more though your nerves. An IV was stuck in your arm and you were no longer in your suit. It wasn't the new clothes or the medical supplies that got you curious, it was the location.

No one in the Justice League had been lucky enough to step foot in the Batcave. It always seemed like some sacred place that all your other teammates were afraid to step foot in. Their bad mojo rubbed off on you for the longest time as well. Batman's secret lair always seemed to spook you.

Sitting in there now, you didn't feel the same way. Aside from the cold and darkness, the place wasn't nearly as dramatic as you thought it was going to be. Large super computer, training area, the med bay that you were in, and a collection of memorabilia. Nothing like you expected it to look like.

"You're awake."

You nearly jumped at the voice. Batman stood to the side of you, his cowl off so you could see his face. It was the first time that he ever trusted you with his identity and least to say, you were shocked. Bruce Wayne hid under that cowl. Billionaire playboy by day, Gotham's hero at night.

Without the cowl on, he looked far less intimidating. Whether it was his piercing blue eyes or the fact that he was really just some human. You felt less of a need to cower away from him and more of a pull of attraction. He was handsome, extremely.

"How long was I out?" You asked. Your voice was hoarse and the cough that erupted in your chest only put you through more pain. It was going to take far longer for you to heal than you wished. However, seeing Bruce alive because of you was well worth the pain. You couldn't imagine Gotham without it's Dark Knight.

"Three days."

"Fuck," you muttered, laying back down to the pillow. Your eyes sealed shut in frustration at the lost time. "I take it the rest of the mission went well then."

"Minimal civilian causalities," Bruce told you. He took a step closer to you and reached for the bandages that crossed your stomach. Faint burn marks that would never fully heal laced your skin. They did as much as they could, but you would be left scarred forever. Just a reminder for Bruce that you nearly died for him.

Before he could touch the material, you had snatched his wrist. Your eyes were still shut when you did the action, but they popped open when you grabbed him. Bruce retracted without saying anything. He nearly complained as you pulled the IV out of your arm and swung your legs off the side of the hospital bed, but remained silent. You were a grown woman, you could decide if you felt healthy or not.  

"Thank you," Bruce found the only way to stop you in your tracks. Your hands gripped the side of the bed and he couldn't tell if it was because you were suddenly dizzy, or shocked by his words. It was both. Your head hung low and you didn't wish to gaze up at him. Memories of the searing pain you felt flooded you and seeing his face was only a reminder of it all.

You knew that taking that blast might of killed you. You knew that the second it hit you that you might not be waking up the next morning. Was it worth it? Saving someone as heartless as Batman? You weren't sure yet. You were alive and breathing, that was going to have to be good enough for now.

"I would be dead without you," he continued. You still didn't move. Bruce went down to his knee. One hand gently on you leg and the other balancing on his own. His touch caused you to flinch, catching him off guard. He felt the need to step away from you, to give you the space that you desired. "I'm sorry."

"I saved a teammate, Bruce," you used his real name. His narrowed slightly; he didn't think you recognized him. You showed no reaction as you saw who he really was, he just assumed you were as oblivious as Hal. "I'd like to think you would do the same but who fucking knows."

"I've dedicated my life to saving people do you really think that I wouldn't do the same for anyone else on the Justice League? For you?" Bruce grit his teeth. He stood up from his spot on the ground and towered above you once more. This sudden coldness that you were giving him was nothing that he expected when you woke up.

You were always so kind to everyone on the team - even him when he pushed you away so many times. After taking the risk of dying for him, he thought that you would be willing to show more kindness. Someone willing to die for another obviously enjoyed their presence . At least he thought so.

"I think that it's been months that we've been working together and it's only when I nearly die for you that you decide to show your face," you scoffed. "Then again why does it matter who's under the mask, you're still the same asshole either way." This time, you jumped off the bed and tried to walk past Bruce.

You never even made it two steps past him before he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. You tried to pull out of his grasp but it was no use, he was far too strong for you. Bruce tugged you back, nearly causing you to trip over your own feet as you did.

"I kept you alive, the least I deserve is a thank you," Bruce's voice lowered. If you were going to be cold to him, then he was going to be the same right back. "But then again, why does it matter? I'm still the same asshole anyways that could have let you die." He let go of your wrist, but his words only frustrated you more.

After taking the bullet for him, you thought he would be more willing to open up to you. To be himself while there was no one else around. It didn't take long to realize that he would never do that, or maybe this was him being himself. You would never know the truth. That was what angered you.

You wanted to argue with him, to yell at him for being such a soulless dick. However, Pain erupted though your entire body. Your knees buckled from below you as you held onto your wound. Bruce had caught you just before you hit the ground. He easily swooped you up and set you back down on the bed.

This time, you didn't argue as he lifted the bandage to see what kind of hell your skin was in underneath. Bruce worked in silence. He dabbed a clean cloth around the wound and sterilized it. The sting of alcohol made you bite your lip to hold back the hiss of pain. With more grace than you ever thought he had, he wrapped you with a new bandage.

As he tried to walk away, you were the one to stop him. You grasped his hand, far more delicately than he had grabbed you. He could easily snap out of your hold if he wanted to, yet he found himself stopping to turn back.

"I'm sorry," you apologized. He was right, Bruce did save your life. "I guess I just expected you to be... different without the mask on. I assumed we all were. Maybe in this life we're always hiding behind some sort of mask, even without realizing it."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Bruce," you stopped him from walking away once more. "I just meant that I'm grateful for you to trust me with your identity. And that you saved me, you understand what it's like to be human under the suit. I know that trust doesn't come easy to you."

A silence fell between you. The intensity of his stare made you feel vulnerable. Cowl on or off, he was still the great Batman. A deadly weapon and a savior to Gotham. You hadn't meant to get upset. He was the last person on the team that you wanted to make angry - even more than Superman.

"Do you wanna get a drink?" Bruce suddenly asked. The corner of his lips tugged up and it was the most that you had seen him smile since that brief first time. You looked down at the over-sized clothes that you wore and then over to his Batsuit. Together, you looked to be quite the pair.

"I hope being a billionaire means you buy good whiskey," you agreed to his offer. Bruce pulled you up off the bed with the hand that had been resting in yours the whole time. You were thankful for his help. The wound you had surely would have taken you down once more if it wasn't for his support.

You stopped several steps in. Bruce looked down at you, worried about your wound. With a second of hesitation, you stood on your toes to kiss the corner of his lips. Your hand rest on his chest as your lips lingered on his skin. Your hand felt as if it was burning a whole through his chest.

He didn't expect this sudden act of affection, but he appreciated it nonetheless.  "If you'd let me, I'd like to get to know the real you - whatever version that may be," you offered. Bruce had trouble opening up to people, but maybe it would be easier with you.

"I'd like that."

[scorpionyx9621]

I Hope Hopeless Changes Over Time: A Red Hood and Batman Fic

*Source of the image I found off of Pintrest. I tried to find the original artist but the link on Pintrest led to a dead Tumblr account. If anyone wants to find/point out the account to me so I can give proper credit to the artist please please do.*

I wanted to make a fic based on an ask I did from the lovely @dilfbatman about Jason and Bruce. I hope people enjoy this mini-fic that I've expanded upon.

TW: Blood, Physical Assault, Suicide Ideation, Swearing. Bruce being a shitty father but trying. Jason having demons 

3.75K words. 

Bruce was uneasy about Jason staying over at the Wayne Mansion. Even with other members of the family around. Jason has done so much wrong and has hurt so many people. However, at the end of the day, Jason still is his son. So when he gets a call from Jason in a hushed voice asking Bruce to stay the night. He hesitated for a second, but acquiesced, Jason was nothing if not independent, so to be asking Bruce outright to stay at the Wayne Manor meant something was wrong.

"Master Jason wouldn't reach out to any of us unless something was gravely wrong, Master Wayne." Alfred had reassured Bruce, who was staring absentmindedly at the glass case which housed Jason's old Robin costume. The costume that Jason had died in. Bruce always tried to repress the memory of holding his son's cold, lifeless body. The pain he felt from losing his parents burned in his heart as an everlasting stab wound. But the pain from losing Jason, his son, it was too much to bare.

"I'd be welcoming to Master Jason, but keep your distance. Master Damian is spending the night at Jon Kent's house, Master Richard is in Blüdhaven, and Master Timothy is with the Teen Titans tonight. I'll rest assured Jason doesn't try anything to harm you. But don't try to encourage a confrontation." Alfred explained. He always seemed to understand Jason to a tee after he came back to life.

"I don't know how you do it Alfred, you can read the boy like a book." Bruce had retorted. Cocking a half-smile to the man who raised him since his parents died.

"Master Wayne, Master Jason wears his heart on his sleeve. He always has. And one of the reasons why you two fight constantly is because, for as terrific as a detective you are, you are horrifically inept in reading the emotions of your children." Alfred had stated, those words bit Bruce. He wasn't expecting such sharp words from Alfred. "We failed Master Jason. And he's hurt, he's been hurt for years because of it. However he keeps choosing to come back and try and trust again. We needn't come at him with accusations of ulterior motives, but we should be supportive." Alfred stated.

"But cognizant of what Jason is capable of." Bruce added back. Jason may need help, but he's still dangerous. He has tried to kill Bruce and the rest of the Robins multiple times. He wants to trust Jason and warm up to him again. But the man who wears the Red Hood and stalks the streets of Gotham killing those he deems criminals is not his son anymore.

Alfred and Bruce greeted Jason as he walked in the large double doors of the Wayne Manor. The first thing Bruce noticed was the dark circles under Jason's eyes. It seemed as if the man hadn't slept in days. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a fitted black wife beater, accentuating his muscles. Jason would have looked more intimidating had his body language not suggested he was as disheveled as he was, physically and mentally.

"Thanks Alfred." Jason had said meekly towards the butler. He took one step into the mansion and looked at Bruce. Bruce noticed as soon as Jason's eyes met his, his tired irises contorted into anger. His lips pursed downwards but Jason chose not to say anything. Instead just walking past Bruce pretending not to acknowledge him.

"Master Jason, you will be staying in the guest suite on the main floor. I've already prepped everything for your arrival. Please make yourself at home." Alfred had said. Jason just shook is head as he headed towards the hallway leading the guest suite. Bruce didn't notice it immediately but the stench Jason had emitted stung in the air. It smelled like stale liqour and body oder. It seems Jason hadn't bathed in days. Bruce had wanted to say something but chose not to.

The evening went by quietly enough. Jason had taken a shower and changed into another fitted wife beater but still sported a tired energy about him. Alfred had put together a beef pot roast for dinner with red potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery over garlic mashed potatoes. A favorite dish of Jason's. The three of them ate quietly as Bruce continued to size up his son. He was conflicted. At one point he saw the man who blew up the head of a Gotham security force member with a torture decide he had created. On the other hand, he saw the boy who would beg for Bruce to buy him more books after he finished the maximum amount a library card would allow for a week in the span of 3 days. The son who told him being Robin gave him magic.

The dinner ended as it began. With awkward silence and the father-son duo eyeing each other. One with cautious trepidation and the other with abject hate. Bruce had decided not to go on patrol tonight as he felt he needed to be at the manor should anything happen while Jason was here. An uneasy sense of dread built over Bruce as he had said good night to Jason as the two passed by each other in the halls. Jason simply spat 'Bitch' at Bruce and walked into the bedroom. Bruce had been bad with other people's emotions, but something didn't sit right with the way Jason was carrying himself. He had decided to stay up tonight regardless. A sense came over him after being sworn at by Jason. A sense he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt as though his son needed help.

————————————————————

"You're a monster"

"Jason is a murderer"

"Stay away from Jason, he'll kill you."

"No one wants you around, Todd"

"You're just a good guy trying to be bad"

"This is the kid you had to replace me with as Robin? Bruce he's pathetic."

"I can't believe my daughter wasted the Lazarus Pit on a miserable failure like you."

"Maybe I'd be better off dead"

Jason tossed and turned. It's been days. He couldn't get the voices out of his head. Those whispery, moany voices that taunted and tormented him. He knew it was a result of the Lazarus Pit. Ever since Roy died and everyone left him the voices started taunting him again. He tried everything he could to get the voices to stop. He drank, he read, he worked out, he did everything he could. The only way the voices became quiet were when he was beating the ever-loving shit out of some criminals. This was not the mindset Jason had wanted. He wanted to go back to being supported by Bruce, the man who betrayed him. He knew that Bruce was weak. He couldn’t kill the Joker because of his weakness. 

Jason got up and walked over to the connecting bathroom to the suite that he was staying in. He went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Against his better judgement, Jason looked up to the figure he saw in the mirror. He took note of his jawline, his face, his green eyes, his muscles.. but one thing that caught his eye was the fucking skunk streak of hair at the top of his head. The physical reminder of his dip in the Lazarus Pit. He had just re-dyed the spot not two days ago and it already came back. He did everything he could to try to hide the streak. It’s what he hated most about his new body. The pit wiped away all of the scars he had on his body. And any new fresh scar or wound would just fade in a matter of moments due to the effects of the pit. The only thing that ever stayed was that damned streak. 

Jason had nothing but disgust and contempt for the man he saw in the mirror, which, ironically, was himself. 

“You’re just using the sarcasm to hide your hatred.” 

“It’s your fault that everyone hates you.” 

“Killing the sick of the masses to save those who are weak is your calling” 

“Those reptiles deserve to die” 

“I don’t want to kill unless I don’t have to.. I don’t want people to hate me..” Jason tried reassuring himself. The voices in his head kept getting louder and louder. “I want Bruce and everyone to love me again....” He continued to try to re-assure himself. It was a false sense of hope as always. His mind soon wandered to a moment where he was on top of Dick in a fight. Confronting his older sibling and reciting a quote he had heard from a Japanese philosopher and optimist as he had the barrel of a gun placed against his older brother’s temple. 

“Do you know what the most convenient phrase in the world is, Dickie? It’s ‘I’m sorry.’ Anyone who hears that is obligated to forgive, no matter how hurt or angry they might be... There's no more disgusting phrase in all the world. It's used to displace your suffering unto others so you can escape your sins... The moment you employ it, your suffering becomes the other person's. A thing can be unforgivable, but oh, if they apologize... I say there's no reason to accept that suffering. You don't have to forgive them. Cast aside the mask of your conscience.“ 

“Stop this. Please stop this.” Jason had begged aimlessly into the air. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He didn’t want to live, period. He just wanted all of this to end. He had caused so much pain and so much suffering to the people of Gotham all so he could attempt to hurt Bruce. But those words kept repeating in his head. He knew he had to stop this. He needed help, he wanted to go to Bruce and explain what was going on but Bruce would just have him institutionalized. His murderer of a son starts hearing voices in his head? A one way ticket to a padded room. 

Jason suddenly stared back into the mirror and saw something he detested. The green eyes that stared into his soul. The one he hated more than anything else. Was himself. This thing was staring him in the face mocking him, and he wanted it gone. 

“Do it Jason.” the voice had beckoned from the mirror. “Kill them all. Slit Damian’s throat and watch the fucker bleed. Bash Tim’s stupid face into the concrete until there’s nothing but mush. Rip Dick limb from fucking limb. Watch Bruce as you choke the last bit of life from his eyes. I promise all the pain will go away once all of this is done.” the voice sounded almost sweet as it promised to do all of this. Jason just retched as he saw the green eyed monster promising poison to him. He felt his vision fade to black. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

STOP IT. SHUT. UP. 

*CRASH* 

Bruce had jumped up from the chair he was sitting on in the library, the voice came from the suite that Jason was staying in. Bruce didn’t have time to think. He just ran towards the noise. He threw the door to the suite open and ran to the bathroom. There he saw Jason in front of a heavily cracked mirror. Jason was hyperventilating and he saw blood oozing from Jason’s fist which was pressed against the mirror. Bruce saw from the reflection that Jason had split open the left side of his lip seemingly from a shard of glass. It wasn’t long before Jason glanced up at the imposing shadow in the mirror and noticed Bruce’s presence. 

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BRUCE.” Jason had shouted at his reflection. Jason was shaking. Bruce had wanted to assess the injury that Jason gave himself. But he knew he was cornering a scared animal if he pressed any farther forward. Bruce stood their frozen. Pondering between trying to press forward upon a killer, or to check up on his son. 

“Jason, I just...” Bruce was cut off by another scream as Jason turned around. 

“IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU FUCKING STAND YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Bruce finally got the cue. The hitch in Jason’s voice. This is the same hitch his voice made when he was a kid and was angry at Bruce. Alfred was right. This is his son. And right now Bruce needed not to be the Batman approaching the Red Hood. He needed to be Bruce, to help his son. 

Bruce walked forward to Jason, still shaking as blood oozed from the gashes of glass on his fist. Bruce decided against everything in his gut telling him to stop this criminal. This monster who killed for sport and to prove a point. He needed to help Jason, his son. 

Bruce was knocked back by a fist to his chest. Glass imbedded itself into Bruce as he felt the sting of their shards. Jason was right, he was going to hurt Bruce if he approached. Oracle was right, Jason had been abusing venom. The quick gain in muscle mass was proof enough but the stinging pain in Bruce’s chest also proved that hypothesis. Jason barred his teeth as his eyes displayed a seething hatred. Bruce would have been frightened on any other day. Today, Bruce felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Bruce collected himself and got up to approach Jason again. 

“I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BRUCE. I FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS. I WANT YOU TO DIE. I WANT ALL OF US TO JUST FUCKING DIE.” Jason screamed even louder this time. A hot stream of tears worked their way down Jason’s cheeks. Bruce no longer saw a rage-induced monster but the boy who took a tire iron to his gut on the streets of Gotham. The boy who would was thrilled at every opportunity he got to show Bruce the A’s on every test he got in school. This was his baby boy who needed his help. 

“Jason Peter Todd that’s enough.” Bruce said firmly, but not harshly. Jason stared directly into his eyes. “Jason. I want you to listen to me.” 

“Go to hell you motherfucker.” those words which escaped Jason were laced with poison. Bruce didn’t waver. 

“You can punch me as much as you want Jason and I’ll deserve all of it.” Bruce came closer to Jason. Jason proceeded to physically make himself smaller. Like a scared animal. Bruce remember what he did to Jason after he had seemingly killed The Penguin. How he beat Jason to within an inch of his life. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he saw Jason cower like a scared dog over his approach. 

“What are you going to do Bruce, beat me to a fucking pulp again? You hate me more than you hate the fucking Joker, don’t you?” Jason asked. Bruce truly saw the fear in those green eyes. He had to take a moment and realized just what he was doing. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders as he approached Jason. This time he was back within striking range of his son. 

“Jason. I failed you. I have been failing you for the past 10 years since your death. I have failed this city and this family in providing the protection it needs. I couldn’t kill The Joker because I’m weak.” Bruce sucked at emotions and emoting. But Bruce hadn’t felt this shaky and wavering since the day he lost Jason. His son needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth. “Jason I never hated you. I hated the actions you have taken against the people of this city. But I’ve come to realize that the hatred and contempt I’ve held is because you do what I can’t do.” 

“Oh so now you’re coming over to apologize? I don’t owe you shit after what you’ve done to me.” Jason had stated. He may have been acting like a pinned animal. But his mouth will never not cut like knives. 

“Jason, when we had fought in the abandoned apartment. And you had the Joker with you. You had tried to shoot me after I had turned away from you.” Bruce said. Inching ever closer to Jason while trying not to be imposing. “In that moment, I threw the batarang because I knew you were going to retaliate against me. But I need you to know in that moment I turned away. I turned away because I decided I wasn’t to be the one to decide the Joker’s fate. He had taken your life and it wasn’t up to me to decide. I want nothing more than for the Joker to pay for the countless lives hes taken and ruined.” Bruce swallowed hard as he felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I failed you because I couldn’t kill the Joker. But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby boy back. I wanted you back in my life. I still want you back in my life.” 

“Bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT.” Jason spat at Bruce. The emotions were flooding out of his face. Anger, hatred, fear, but most of all sadness. Jason’s voice began wavering as he began to cry. “If you loved me why in the fuck have you never realized I’ve been trying to help the people of Gotham. Instead every time I take matters into my own hands all I meet are your fucking fists. I hate your guts Bruce. We’d all just be better off fucking dead. It’s all Hopeless. I’m hopeless.” 

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to find his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out to his son again. “You’re absolutely right Jason. I’ll bet Gotham would be a whole lot better without me. Without the pain I have caused. And no amount of apologies will fix the pain that I have caused you. No words will ever take back the transgressions I have taken against you.” Bruce was crying this time. “But know this. You always have been my son. And I love you so much. The day I lost my parents was agony. The day I lost you, I felt like I had lost myself I felt I had died a bit inside.” Bruce choked out. “We both have done so much we regret. If I could take back all the times I hit you I would do it in a heartbeat. But no amount of sorry will take back that pain. I shouldn’t be in the position to be asking this. But I just want my son back.” Bruce swallowed. “You have every right to hate me, but I will never stop loving you. You aren’t hopeless and you never have been. You never have been a burden. You are valued by so many people. I. I love you my son. I love you Jason."

Jason’s face relaxed from a position of contempt and hatred and soon was overcome with years of pent up tears. Jason let out a hearty scream as he proceeded to weep and sob. As if a dam had broke and was threatening to engulf a town in an apocalypse. Bruce went against everything he had known and was screaming from the inside of his body and wrapped Jason in a hug. He was almost as large as Bruce himself and barely fit around his arms. But Bruce held his son and hugged him tight. Jason was crying uncontrollably. 

“I’m hearing these voices. They’re telling me I’m a monster and a killer and that I should kill all of you.” Jason shouted between sobs. “But I don’t want to. I’m so afraid Bruce. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to.” 

“Just breath Jason. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let it all out.” Bruce had solidified his resolve and worked on being there for Jason. He couldn’t run away this time. His son needed him more than ever. And Gotham be damned. He’s not making this mistake twice. He’s staying here. For Jason. 

It felt like hours before Jason had run out of tears and sobs. Jason was fading and seemed like he was about to fall asleep. The shards of glass that were imbedded in his hand seemingly prevented Jason from bleeding out. Bruce had saw Jason’s eyes glaze over as his breathing calmed. 

“Jason, I’m going to pick you up and take you to bed.” Bruce had said, asking for permission from his second son. Jason simply nodded as he starred off. He was numb now. The pain seemingly gone for the moment. Bruce lifted Jason up and was taken aback by just how heavy his son was. He truly was 225lbs just like his records showed. This wasn’t the son who hid under the cabinets when Bruce first brought Jason home. But Bruce still saw the boy as his son nonetheless. As Bruce laid Jason on the bed Alfred had approached with a first aid kit. Proceeding to begin to clean up Jason’s hand. Jason was so exhausted he barely felt any of the picking and pulling or the iodine going into his wounds. He kept his eyes fast forward on Bruce. 

“Bruce. I. I’m sorry.” Jason had said meekly. 

“Don’t apologize Jason.” Bruce had stated. He ran his hand through Jason’s hair, giving a soft massage to his scalp. “You get some sleep now. I don’t think you’ve rested in days.” 

Bruce had remembered the time he had read Jason to sleep. This time he had thought back to a poem that struck him from his phone. It was from a famous lyricist and singer. As Bruce pulled up his phone he had found the poem and recited it as Jason fell asleep. Things are far from perfect or even better. But tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of his and Jason’s lives. 

“They told me once, ‘there's a place where love conquers all’

A city with the streets full of milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

pHEW GOD THAT WAS LONG. I hope you all enjoyed the fic! This was my first published attempt at angst and whump and while I feel some parts are cringe. I am proud of what I made. 

Big thanks again to @dilfbatman for inspiring this fic. The inspiration of the title is the song Hopeless: by Halsey. The quote about I’m Sorry is from the character Shadow Maya Amano from Persona 2: Innocent Sin. And the poem at the end is the first part of the lyrics to the song Good Mourning by Halsey. 

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 5

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

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By the time the class landed in Gotham, Marinette and Chloé had enough. Their recorders, which were supposed to serve as damning evidence of blatant bullying, got ‘damaged’ when Lila accidentally splashed the two girls with a drink. Whatever it was, it was sticky, didn’t wash with water, and also ruined their hidden dictaphones. 

Of course, the liar made it look like it was Marinette who tripped her. The class almost hounded her, but they kept their distance not wanting to also get their clothes dirtied. Of course, Lila was occupying the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, so when she finally left the drink already dried, making it even harder to get rid of. 

When the girls made their way out of the plane to meet with Sabine and their teacher, Lila pushed past them and came crying about how rude Marinette ruined her outfit, which was supposedly incredibly expensive. None of the intelligent people bothered to try and point out that it was cheap mass-produced junk. Alix was visibly conflicted, but also did not speak up in the end. 

“Marinette. I expected better of…” The teacher started, but then she saw both girls were hit worse than Lila, who cleaned most of it in the bathroom. 

“Sweetie…” Sabine started to rethink if a simple murder wouldn’t solve their problem.

“Don’t worry Maman. I can probably salvage it once we ret… get to Damian’s” Mari corrected herself. Luckily, it seemed like nobody caught her slip of tongue. 

“Ugh! Not that creep.” Alya complained. “He gives me shivers.” 

Mari glared at her former friend. She wanted to say something, but her teacher urged them to move. They were put into a small lounge. Marinette, of course, had to run them through a safety course, for reasons. She still did her best, as Gotham earned its reputation as the World’s Capital of Crime. 

When they were finally cleared and the class left the airport, there was a bus waiting, ready to take them to the hotel. Marinette and Chloé were about to board when a limousine pulled next to them. 

“Angel, Bourgeoise…” He greeted the girls. “Since you’ll be staying with us, my father decided to send a proper escort.”

The class stared in disbelief. The guy with a sword was loaded? It definitely looked like it from the car. 

“I bet his gramps just works as a driver and borrowed his work car,” Lila whispered to Alya and suddenly everyone was repeating the lie. “Or maybe even stole it…” 

A blade was suddenly pressed into Lila’s neck, a hair width away from drawing blood

“Tt. I will tolerate many things, but if you try to insult Alfred one more time, your end will be painful.” The class backed away in fear. Marinette immediately went to try and drag the boy away from a very pale Lila, but he wouldn’t budge. “Am. I. Clear?”

Lila was too paralyzed to answer, so he pressed the blade further. Now it was in contact with her skin and a moment of inattention could have fatal consequences. “Am. I. Clear?” He seethed.

“Yes…” She managed to whisper. 

“Tt. Good.” He sheathed his blade just as two security guards came outside to check the commotion. 

“Arrest him! He tried to murder Lila!” Alya immediately screamed. 

“No. If I did, she would be dead. I only explained certain values.” Damian deadpanned. 

The two guards looked between the class and visibly angry Damian Wayne and scratched their heads. They could report it, but they only had the word of some foreigners against the word of the son of the First Citizen of Gotham who was also the fifth richest man in the world. The cameras here stopped working, hence they came out to check what happened. 

“Children. We should be going or we’ll miss lunch at the hotel,” their teacher urged. That was enough for the guards. If the chaperone did not press charges, they wouldn’t bother. 

“But… But…” 

“Lila. Be a bigger person here and apologize to Damian.” Sabine grinned. 

“But he…”

“I don’t want to hear it!” The woman cut her off. “You must show our host some respect.”

“I didn’t…” The glare Sabine sent her and the murderous expression on Damian’s face made the words freeze in her throat. “Fine. I’m sorry Damien.”

“Tt.” Was the boy’s only response. 

Marinette and Chloé were about to leave when Rose protested. “Why are they not going with us to the hotel!?”

“Because as one of the host families, I’m allowed to welcome the students I choose to my house for the stay.” Damian did not care enough to elaborate more. Instead, he just jumped into the back seat of the Limousine. The girls followed, with Chloé going as far as sticking her tongue at the class. 

Once the doors closed and Alfred started the engine, Damian lowered the windshield and leaned outside. “By the way, it’s Damian. Damian W…” He didn’t get to finish because Marinette covered his mouth with her hand and dragged him inside. The windshield closed. 

When the car entered the main road, the girl finally let him go. 

“What was that about, Habibti?” He glared at her. 

“You were about to reveal that you’re the Damian Wayne.” She accused him.

“Tt. It’s time that liar learns who she’s dealing with.”

“It would only blow up in our faces. She would make it worse for all of us, including your family.” Seeing that both her best friend and her husband (still hard to get used to) were looking at her with no small amount of curiosity, she elaborated. “Damian Wayne is supposedly her ‘ultimate price’ from this exchange. She will want to sink her claws into you with all her skill.”

“Tt. She can try.” He huffed. His hand instinctively went to his sword. 

“You do know you are quite murderous for a Robin?” Chloé quipped.

“And you’re bratty for a lady.” 

“Bird-brain.”

“That’s Drake. Spoiled princess.”

“Daddy can afford it so why not? Trained monkey.”

“Grayson. Try harder. Talentless heiress.”

“I’m helping Marinette start her own company. Emo McBroodyPants.”

“Where did you even get that one?”

“I read.” She huffed. “And looks like I won.”

“Tt. As if.”

Marinette just sat back and watched her best friend and lover bicker there and back. It was nice that they were warming up to one another…

-----------

When Sabine finally arrived at the Manor, she was dead on her feet. Alfred was, of course, waiting for her at the entrance.

“Eventful day, Madame?”

“Don’t.” She cut him off.

“I assume it went worse than anticipated then?”

“Where is Tom?”

“Master Tom is in the kitchen. He decided to prepare some baked goods for the afternoon.”

Sabine stormed to the kitchen where she found her husband. He was clearly busy preparing the dough. After a quick greeting, she went to help him. 

“That bad?”

“Worse.” She sighed. “I really don’t understand that woman. How… She cut me whenever I tried to rein those monsters in.”

“Oh… Hand me the pin.” He interrupted himself. Sabine gave him the item, which she already had in hand when he started speaking. 

“I’m not sure if I can survive until school starts again. And even then there will be occasional afternoon trips. If it continues, I might just… I will get a jam. You did bring it?”

“I’ve put it on the counter,” Tom replied while still preparing the dough. “And don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“I hope so…”

---------

In the evening, Marinette, Chloé, and Sabine were introduced to the Batcave. It was indeed impressive, but Sabine was mostly interested in the training ring. She would lie if she didn’t want to test herself against the famous Batman. And she didn’t fancy committing crimes to do so. Well, for now. The class was making it more and more appealing.

“So you’re the girl that tamed Robin?” A redhead in a wheelchair rolled over to Marinette. 

“Tt. Shut up, Gordon.” Damian managed to spend a beautiful afternoon without any teasing from his family. Sadly, nothing could last forever.

“Come on baby bird. After the show you gave us on Christmas Eve, you can’t expect us to just drop it.” Dick was there, smiling cockily. 

“As much as I too want to tease that couple, I hoped for some sparring matches.” Sabine decided to save the teens. For now.

“Well, Madame, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Who’s with you?” She asked once Nightwing entered the ring.

“Um… I didn’t think you wanted a team match?” He replied, slightly confused. 

“No, no. I just thought I would have some challenge.” She smiled brightly. She was dressed in a dark-pink judoka and wooden sandals. 

“I… want.” Cass chimed in. She gracefully jumped into the ring before turning to Dick. “Alone.”

“Of course Sweetie. But I won’t go easy on you.” 

“Did not… expected.” 

The two women watched one another, neither moving from their spots. Both seemed relaxed but ready to react. Cass was first to start circling, with Sabine following. Neither could find any obvious flaws to exploit. Finally, Sabine lunged forward, only to jump to the side before getting in Cassandra’s range. The girl didn’t lose the bit and with a quick spin kicked her aunt, only to be deflected. Sabine tried to capitalize on the opening, but Cass followed her failed kick with another, launching herself in the air. Her target ducked low before trying to deliver an upper-cut punch toward the flying girl. It did connect, serving to push her back. She used the momentum to get some distance before landing on her hands and doing a double backward cartwheel and ending in a ready stance. 

“Not bad, Cassandra. I’m impressed. That boy would probably already be crying on the floor.” Sabine smiled genuinely. There was no need for banter between them. 

“Weakling.” The girl blew Dick a raspberry. 

Two women watched each other for a moment. This time, it was Sabine who initiated the actual fight. She delivered three quick punches that Cass blocked, but it created a small opening. She tried to deliver a side-kick to the girl’s head, but her opponent had the same idea. 

Their legs clashed by the shins. Sabine landed her leg firmly on the ground, but Cass once more lunged in the air, trying to use the momentum. She did two more kicks that her aunt blocked before she tried to put the older woman in a grip. Sabine, seeing the attempt, jumped back and tried to grab Cassandra’s hand, but instead, the girl spun around, delivering a powerful kick to Sabine’s side. 

The woman felt the kick, but she used the opportunity to timely grab her opponent’s foot and twist it. Cass, to avoid an injury, also had to spin in the air. She managed to attempt a kick before falling on her stomach. Her kick did force Sabine to let go of the foot to avoid having her head hurt. The girl quickly jumped on her feet, just in time to block an open-palm strike, which was followed with a kick. She did not get to respond, because Sabine made a low-sweep. Cass jumped in the air, only to find herself pushed away by another open-palm strike that, this time, connected with her chest, pushing the air out of her lungs. 

The woman followed Cass in the air, so she did not get a chance to stand up before getting pinned and rotated on her stomach. The grip that Sabine used effectively made it almost impossible to get out of before her aunt delivered a mock game-ending strike to her head. 

When Sabine stood up and helped her niece, both were panting heavily. It did not affect the accuracy with which the older of them made a back-kick, right below Jason’s belt. 

“Next time you try to sneak on either of us I will hit harder.” Sabine didn’t even bother to turn around and watch how the man curled on the floor, crying. “Good fight.” She focused her gaze on Cass, who blushed slightly.

“I lost.” 

“Well, depends on the criteria. You got the first hit, which is often decisive. And an achievement.” The woman cheered her with a broad smile on her face. Cassandra couldn’t help but also smile. “We could both use some more practice. I definitely would’ve taken you when I caught your foot and if you capitalized on the initial advantage you could’ve ended the fight.”

“It is an honor… training… with you.”

“Thank you, my dear. I also enjoyed it.” Sabine then turned to the gobsmacked group. The fight must have looked more impressive than she thought. 

“Did you just… defeat Cass in less than five minutes…?” Tim asked, unable to form a smooth sentence.

“Well, Sandra always said that I was the better one in unarmed combat. She does rock with swords though. And you should’ve seen her in that club in Tokyo. She’s definitely the dancer of the family, or rather was. I enjoy Cass’s ballet more.”

The great moment was interrupted by Batman speaking to everyone over the comms. 

“Suit up. We’ve got a hostage situation at Gotham Plaza.”

“For the love of Kwami… Please tell me it’s not my class.” Marinette groaned. 

“Tt. Of course it’s them.” Damian pulled his phone, showing her a live feed from the news helicopter. On the rooftop, there was a clearly visible group of teenagers, surrounded by goons with guns aimed at them. Near the edge stood a guy in a two-color suit. Half white and half black, with a red and black tie to complete the mad image. Half of his face was badly damaged and purple. 

“If Batman doesn’t show here to save his precious sidekick soon, we shall see if the little birdie can actually fly.”

Everyone who met Lila groaned. 

“I assume we can’t just let him deal with her?” Marinette asked hopefully.

“Sadly, Angel, it would be bad for our image.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“The two of you are sitting this out.” Batman walked into the cave, already in his suit. “We can’t risk any of them recognizing you two and it’s too early for Ladybug and Chat to appear. It would be too easy to associate their appearance with you two coming to Gotham.”

Seeing Damian’s irritated face, Marinette decided to intervene before she had a fight on her hands “Let’s do a movie night. I’m sure you have a theatre room somewhere in here.” 

Immediately, the boy brightened. “No Bourgeoise?”

“I think Chloé has other plans for the evening.” She nodded toward where the blonde was talking excitedly with Cass, trying to convince her to train her.

“Good.” Damian offered his hand and the two left the cave.

“Damn! I didn’t get the chance to tease him about the proposal.” Jason looked really dejected. 

--------

Masterlist // Next

[fleckcmscott]

Out of Sight

Summary: Y/N has an unexpected dash of inspiration. Arthur doesn't require much convincing.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,221

A/N: This fun little request comes from @sweet-nothings04​​. You're wonderful and I hope this meets your expectations. Thanks for the request - I can't imagine ever writing this without it! 🙈 Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul​ for agreeing to beta!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Words didn't often fail Y/N, but the admission left her foggy, reminiscent of what she'd experienced after tipping over in a wheelbarrow race at a school fair. Her foot swung back and forth as she sat on the counter. Fiddled with the phone cord and twisted its beige, plastic curls around her fingers. Were there signs she'd missed? Was her gut right in insisting she was a terrible friend?

"Marriage counseling?" she repeated.

Arthur stopped filling his bowl with sandy, pecan cookies, alarm encroaching his features. She waved off his concern, mouthing "not us" before she spoke into the receiver. "I'm so sorry." With a grimace of understanding, he patted her knee and ducked out, sweets in hand. No doubt he'd ask her to elaborate. Not that she had anything to share. Not yet. "I had no idea you and Robert were having problems."

Patricia laughed lightly on the other end. "Neither of us have our bags packed." A whistle came from the background. Vague cheering. Then mild cursing about how terrible this season's Gotham Guardsmen's picks were. She sighed. "The little green monster's dropped-in since your wedding. Don't get me wrong. I couldn't be happier for you if you were my own sister."

Y/N wished Patricia was within arm's reach instead of all the way in Burnside.

"Next month we'll have been married thirty-five years," Patricia continued with a rare nostalgia. "We're a team, Robert and me. But we've both let things go, gotten old. I'd like the spark back before we lose the kindling."

Pursing her lips, Y/N bit back her qualms. Rebutting the steps Patricia had taken was uncalled for, and doubly so when she needed her support. Besides. Y/N understood them. She'd climbed them once, too.

When she'd begun to figure out the direction in which the weather vane of her life pointed, the comfort and confidence she'd shared with her ex-husband had started to wither. Transformed over the years into an awareness that her childish belief in love being enough was inaccurate. It was natural, she thought in hindsight. They'd wed at seventeen and twenty-one. But divorce had been uncommon back then, particularly in a small town in the Bible Belt. The night she'd moved in with a friend (a tactic to delay confessing defeat to her family), Jeff suggested they speak with a professional. Though her heart had known it was over, she cared for him. She couldn't deny them the chance to salvage their union, no matter how remote.

A solitary counselor was available, a disadvantage of rural living. The man claimed to be a pioneer in couples therapy, having begun his practice in the thirties. One forty-five-minute drive later and they'd found themselves squished into a leather loveseat in a smoky, cramped office. Diplomas and certificates covered the walls, the veracity of which she couldn't verify. Dr. Ellis's puffy pink cheeks and offer of sweet tea had been kinder than his approach.

Fountain pens and worksheets were provided with the mumbled instruction to answer honestly. But the questions had not fit her situation. They were for women who desired to be happy homemakers. To plan meals and do the weekly shopping. To nurse children and have dinner ready by six. Responsibilities and life stages that had given her mother purpose - a purpose that mostly eluded Y/N. Every comma and quotation mark inferred fault. And Dr. Ellis had read her responses like a disappointed teacher.

Somehow the filmstrips, accompanied by a crackling LP, were worse. Mr. Provider and Mrs. Housewife were featured. He consistently came home on time. She always wore an apron. The narrator's spiritless voice contrasted with the cheery soundtrack while matching Y/N's mood. A lively ping! cued them to advance to the next still, a duty switched between her and Jeff to practice teamwork. At least the sidelong looks they shared could still connect them.

The slides, the homework, the speeches. They all pointed to one problem: her. Her parents were a model couple. Didn't she know encouraging her husband in his livelihood was her job? That his main obligation was to invite her to share his success? She had to mend her ways. Make herself more attractive. Be grateful he displayed his affection by returning to her after a long day at the office; he could just as easily hang out at The Rusty Boot.

Not a little indignant, she'd stared at Jeff's profile. Downcast eyes betrayed his regret and assured she'd maintain composure, for his sake if nothing else. She fixed her focus on Dr. Ellis and gave the situation a good, long think. Jeff had never questioned her ambitions. Who the hell was this jackass to judge?

She'd covered Jeff's hand, rubbed his knuckle with her thumb. "You're the expert here, doctor. But isn't it possible neither party is at fault?"

"Mrs. Thompson, I've heard that misconception from many of my clients. It's never led anywhere positive. Now-"

"But what if they're both good people?" she interrupted, hanging onto diplomacy by a thread. Her resolve stayed, even as her volume lowered at the prospect of wounding the man she'd loved as a girl. "Good people who've grown apart?"

Dr. Ellis took what she'd learned was his usual position on the corner of his cherry desk. "You're mistaking natural sex differences for incompatibility. Not every husband allows his wife to work outside the home." His paternal smile hadn't diminished the sting of his words. "If you want your marriage to thrive, I'd advise a little more maturity. And I think I have just the book to help you."

Twenty tons of silence festered on the ride home, louder than the pulse beating her eardrum. Distress distracted her from noticing the run in her stockings. And it was drizzling. She cracked the passenger window of the Lincoln Continental, anyway. Closed her eyes at the bite of raw air against her overheated face.

"Look, I don't agree with what that guy says," Jeff started. He pulled at the gearshift and flicked the turn-signal. "Not when it comes to you."

As the car came to a stop, she swiped at her eyes. "I'm not going again." The press of a napkin to her palm prompted a mix of appreciation and annoyance. For his courtesy and that he'd detected her tears. "Do you even like being married to me?"

"Y/N-"

"Please." She flinched at his attempt to embrace her. "Don't spare my feelings."

Headlights from a passing car flashed in the cabin, revealing his stretched lips. He raked back his thinning hair. The quiet shake of his head when he moved to gaze at her was a relief. "I miss the girl I fell in love with."

She offered a slight shrug and pulled the corners of the tissue. "I don't like it, either."

His rapid blink softened her posture, along with the recognition that the dream they'd had was also out of reach for him. "I'm proud of the woman you've become," he said. "Even if she's not what I need."

"I don't want to be a lawyer's wife." A quiet laugh bubbled up. "The oral arguments are terrible."

He checked his blind spot and put the sedan back into drive. "I'll file the papers tomorrow. We can tell your parents and sister together. If you'd like." After some seconds, she'd slid across the bench seat and put her head on his shoulder, heartened by an affinity she'd nearly forgotten.

Counseling techniques must have evolved, Y/N considered. Perhaps Patricia would find help instead of blame. If not, tips in women's magazines were a tacky if economical alternative. She'd have to check the breakroom at work for forgotten issues.

She hopped off the counter and poured herself another cup of decaf. "Let me know if we can do anything. And how it goes."

"The first few sessions were great. I picked up a few booklets. 'Modern Marriage,' 'The Complete Woman...' Oh!" Paper shuffled as Y/N put back the milk. "'Enrichment & Exploration: Tips for Bedroom Fun.' I tried reading it with Robert the other night, but he left when I mentioned massagers and blindfolds."

"He's sixty," Y/N snorted. "Give him time."

Peeking around the corner, she spotted Arthur in his writing nook. He stood to stretch, then grab his lighter and pack of Stuttons. The low sit of his pajama bottoms was enough of a temptation for her to tuck her lip. An unexpected spasm tickled her abdomen. "Brief me on the blindfold chapter."

~~~~~

Nervous anticipation had kept her feverish for hours, ever since she'd bid farewell to Arthur with a "Save a smile for me" on her way out the door. His clumsy smooch lingered as she changed the date on her rubber stamp. While she cleaned the office refrigerator, she spent a good sixty seconds pressing a cup of expired yogurt to her flush cheeks. When the shoulder strap of her canvas bag gave out, she shrugged rather than cursed and settled the tote in her lap. With her plan in mind, the corners of her lips refused to relax .

After working the grand opening of the Gotham Mall, Arthur had the workshop she'd registered him for, a beginners' seminar for stand-ups. He'd be home right around six. That would give her thirty minutes to change into her mini nightdress with the ruffled hemline, dab musk oil behind her earlobes, and put on an LP. Dinner would be delayed - neither of them would be in the mood if they were too full. If she remembered correctly, they had a pizza in the freezer, the good kind with the real pepperoni and rising crust. She just had to figure out if she should wait in the bedroom or lounge on the sofa like a poor-man's Lauren Bacall.

As she unlocked the apartment, however, there came a muffled phomp-phomp-phomp. The unmistakable sound of a sink plunger. Fuck. This was the third time this month. Pushing through the door, she hoped the super had called a different plumber. It had taken ages to clean up the stray sediment left behind by the last one. Upon entering, Arthur's plaid bag came into view, next to his keys on the counter. A glance into the kitchen confirmed he was trying his hand at the repair. 

"Hey." Y/N hung her coat, glad her consternation was hidden by the wall. "What happened to your class?" she asked with deliberate playfulness. "Did they decide you were too advanced?" She crossed her arms and moved to the doorway. Tried to hold onto the tendrils of fading arousal by taking him in.

A pleased chuckle. "The instructor left a message." Phomp-phomp-phomp."It'll be rescheduled."

"I know you were looking forward to it." The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and flexing biceps were having the right effect. She ambled towards him. "Let me help."

"It's fine. I had to do this a lot at my old place." The set of his jaw tightened as it gave it another go.

They went through the litany of usual questions. Arthur contently reported the mall had gone well, except for a couple of teenagers who'd given him grief at the start. ("Nothing serious. They were just kids.") Her nine-to-five had been quite low-key, she explained, and had allowed her to catch-up on a backlog of paperwork. ("With the new judge, we keep having to file motions for correction.") But when he asked about this evening, she mused and tapped her fingertips on the counter. Horny, annoyed at her thwarted plan, yet nevertheless itching to seduce him

Water streamed as he turned the faucet's handle, followed by his satisfied hum. He tidied up, then washed to his elbows. Grabbed the nearby dish towel and pivoted on his heel to face her. "What is it?" he asked at her lack of response. He wiped his hands a little harder. "I thought you'd be glad I'm already here."

Seeking to allay his concern, she scooted next to him with a gentle nudge. "You know I am. You've been running through my head all day." She scrunched her nose. "I just had this idea for a romantic evening and wanted to surprise you."

"Oh." Pink colored his chiseled cheekbones and his eyes softened. "You still could. I'd like that." Ardor sparked anew in her belly. Unfurled as he leaned into her, grin cutting across his mouth and straight into her heart. "Would ten minutes be enough?"

Her toes curled. His enthusiasm for her, for them, had a habit of sending electricity up her spine. "Better make it eight," she pronounced.

A sharp nod and a pat to her bottom later, he dashed off. Once the bathroom door shut, Y/N rushed to rummage in his workbag, delighted when she found her prize. She scurried to the stereo and put on one of her soul records. Adjusted the volume to a suggestion instead of distraction. Though the genre wasn't his favorite, it never failed to induce the swivel of his hips. Unbuttoning, unzipping, she made her way to the bedroom. Yanked off her tan skirt and jacquard sweater before carelessly tossing them in the nearby chair.

She'd just gotten settled on the foot of the bed when Arthur sauntered in. Clad in his white briefs and wrinkled socks. "That was five," she said and wadded her pantyhose to hurl at him.

He dodged it easily, stepping forward to gaze at her with hooded eyes, their clear green darkened with need. He licked his lips. "I think it was four." Without further preamble, he knelt between her legs. Scrambling up the bed, she kicked subtly against his hold on her calves. Bit her lip on a giggle as he crawled over her lap to smother her with kisses. She rested on the headboard and nabbed his red and gold Carnival tie from under her pillow.

He quirked a dark brow. "What, you want me to wear it?"

Before any reservation could resurface, she smoothed the broad neck of the tie over her eyes and secured it loosely at her temple. Hesitation floated through the air. Threatened to pierce the veil of desire that enveloped her. She wondered what he was waiting for. If he was wearing that wolfish grin he saved for the bedroom. Or if a modicum of anxiety had spawned. She had sprung this on him without prior discussion. The muffled music from the living room switched to the next song. She attempted to peek under the bottom of the makeshift blindfold, tried to make out more than a vague shadow in the muted light.

But then he sunk into her. Wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her into the mattress. "If you're uncomfortable, tell me," he murmured into her mouth. "Please."

The implication of his request, albeit more loving than licentious, wracked her with want. She couldn't halt her shudder. Blindly, she reached to cup his face. "I trust you," she promised. To both him and herself.

His round nose dragged down the underside of her jaw. "Where'd you get this idea?"

The caress of his smile on the crook of her neck caused a delicious heaviness to settle in her center. "A pamphlet."

"On what?" He tugged at the knot between her ample breasts. Fondled her through the thin satin. "How to make your husband high-strung?"

She carefully skimmed the rigid bulge in his briefs with her knee. "It was actually on how to loosen him up," she retorted. He always loved it when she paraphrased one of his jokes.

Every hushed kiss, every whisper of him against her flesh was magnified. Forced her to concentrate solely on him, to pay attention to each move he made. His humid, hot breath teased her nipple, prompted it to pebble with a twinge. When she released an embarrassingly desperate whimper, he snorted lightly and slipped his palm to the middle of her back. Following his lead, she arched into him. His soft curls brushed her as he laved her areola, swirled his tongue around it, her skin coming alive at the contact. Weathered hands that had so eagerly learned how to touch her groped her neglected breast, rolled its peak between slender, nimble fingers. She fisted the pillow, tipped her head, and grasped his shoulder with a cry. "Arthur..."

Getting her going usually wasn't difficult. Especially when she'd been thinking about making love for an inappropriate number of office hours. But the suspense of not seeing where he'd next pet her, of every caress being a discovery, had her core already pulsing for him. The intrigue was a treat. The best case she'd ever worked on. His strokes walked a path to every clue.

His fingertips skimmed her inner thighs. Groaning, he hooked them under the waistband of her bikini, tugged until she lifted her rear. He pulled them off hastily. With a gentle pressure, he encouraged her to open herself to him. She did so gladly, splaying her legs without a hint of self-consciousness. The relatively cool temperature of the room hit her hot, swollen folds and she quivered.

Then there was an odd sensation at her clit. Scratchy. Rough like a canvas. And was that a corner? After a few seconds it was clear it wasn't doing it for her. And she didn't think Arthur was trying to wipe away her slick. Reaching down, she found a twisted bedsheet in his fist. She was relieved he hadn't run to the kitchen for ice.

"Not good?" he asked.

She softened the blow. "You feel better."

The pad of his thumb trailed over her patch of springy hair, a faint tease that sent a dizzying current racing through her limbs. She strove towards him but he didn't oblige. Rather, he took her hand and placed it on her labia. Guided her to dip within her inner lips. A short moan left her, at the sensation and the sound of his increasingly labored breathing, tinged by his deep voice. "You look like sex," he blurted.

Laughing, she halted. Whenever something brazen spilled from his mouth, however left-footed, she adored it. She clasped his sides. "What does that mean?"

"If I'd seen you in a magazine," he started, moving to settle over and straddle her. His hard-on grazed her abdomen, leaving a damp trail of his arousal in its wake. Even as she wondered when he'd taken off his underwear, her muscles tensed and she gasped. Playful pecks met her cleavage. "You'd be pasted on every page of my journal."

Her reply slipped out before discretion could take hold. "We better buy a Polaroid." A stitch of reluctance before she added, "Just keep them in your desk."

He uncurled her fingers and pressed her palm to his chest. "Touch me," he whispered, pleaded. Her pulse quickened. With an unhurried deliberation, he guided her over the peaks and valleys of his body. The lean pectorals she loved to nuzzle after a weary day. The freckled indent of his sternum. Downward, to the slightly loose skin around his navel, then the soft, toned curve of his abdomen.

Unable to resist, she stretched to chart the ridge of muscle leading to his groin. "You make me so wet."

He let out a bashful giggle, edged with excitement. The instant he rasped his next words against her forehead, she knew he was doing his damnedest to rival her. He pushed her hand to his erection. "You make me so hard."

She followed the bulging vein from base to tip, encircled him with a firm grip. The vibration of his harsh grunt rumbled through her and he jerked forward. Released her wrist to stroke her vulva and flick back and forth along her aching nub. Focusing on the satiny feel of his flesh, the heaviness of his length, she felt petite. Feminine. Powerful. Her hand glided between his legs, cupped the sensitive skin with care. His practiced rhythm faltered. The elbow beside her ear trembled.

While he was a captivating visual, one she missed, her imagination was determined to compensate for her lack of sight. Breathless moans spun her fantasies. Perspiration tickled her nose, woodsy and sweet, conjuring memories of his taste in her mouth. Then all at once he was inside her, going down on her, sucking at her while fucking into her. Impossible feats that nevertheless caused a fever in her brain. "Oh, god," she mewled. Her wanton writhing hastened. She ground against his thigh. "I want your cock in me."

He took hold of himself as she held herself open. The blunt tip of him slid just inside her entrance, a drop when she needed an ocean. She grabbed his hips and thrust upward, hissing as he stretched her completely. "You're fucking tight," he uttered through clenched teeth.

She smoothed her palms over his back, memorized each notch of his ribs. The odd angle of his distended shoulder. The strong tendons at the nape of his neck. He crushed her closer, until her mouth bumped his clavicle. She nibbled lightly, licked the salty sheen of sweat from its hollow, drawing her name from his lips and rapid bucks of his pelvis. "Fuck me," she said, a command and an appeal.

A creak came from above. She followed his taut arm to find he'd clutched the headboard. It occurred to her, then, that her inability to see had been liberating for him. Enough to let go of his inhibitions, to give voice to the bawdy, wonderful things he'd said, to not worry about his appearance.

She reached to swipe her clit steadily, relentlessly. Tears pricked her eyes as she became weightless. Her frame seized, and she came with a choked cry. She sniffled and laughed into his neck, overwhelmed by him. The way he made love to her as if he sought to erase her earlier trials and replace them with the present.

His throaty, punctuated groans, his fingernails digging into her ass divulged his approaching release. She ran her foot along his calf, relished in his body as its angles pressed into her. He balanced himself on his knees, snapping into her at an erratic pace. Then all at once he moaned sharply and went rigid, cock twitching. She cradled the back of his head while his essence marked her walls, closed her eyes when he sprawled on top of her.

Raking her hands through his loose waves, she swallowed thickly. Although she'd always enjoyed sex, exploring this way hadn't been conceivable with anyone else. Allowing that match to light, allowing herself to fan that flame had been unthinkable. She'd felt inadequate. Unable to live up to others' demands, especially her own. There'd been too many boxes to check. Revealing herself in that way would have been a demonstration of trust she wasn't quite ready for.

Being an established woman on equal footing with her partner wasn't something she'd believed possible. She'd been content to go without and find meaning through her work. Arthur had helped her augment that. She could be tough as old leather or delicate as gossamer without concern he'd see her differently. If expectations were left unmet, their easy discussions and compromises promised they'd never become resentments. They supported each other - authentically and as themselves.

For the first time, she knew she was loved for who she truly was. And she wouldn't have to change to keep it.

Choppy panting gradually ceased, replaced by leisurely, happy sighs. He skimmed her flank, then the curve of her hip. She tickled his midriff gently, only stopping when he reclaimed her lips and slid his tongue against hers. Tenderly, he loosened the knot at her temple. She blinked at the orange, evening light invading her eyes. When his came into focus, they were still dilated, a tad sleepy. And so full of affection her breath caught.

Cheek propped on the heel of his hand, he raised his eyebrows. "How was it?"

"You have to ask?" she chuckled, swatting his backside.

A stray lock tumbled towards her as he bent closer. "I wanna hear it."

"Wonderful." Her thighs tightened, keeping him within her. "What I've been craving all day."

His smile was a slow build, equal parts shy and deservedly smug. Then he stared at his tie. "I- I don't know if I'll ever be able to wear that again."

She snorted and looped it around his neck, secured it with a half-Windsor knot. "You're a professional, Mr. Fleck. You'll manage."

He rolled to her left and yanked open the nightstand drawer to riffle through its contents. "What else is in the pamphlet?"

"Hey!" She batted him half-heartedly, boosted herself on her elbow, and spooned him. "What if I had a surprise hidden in there?"

Undeterred, he huffed. "It wouldn't beat this."

"Patricia told me about it." He stilled and slanted his gaze her way. "I can get a copy."

At first, Y/N assumed he'd contradict her. That he wanted to keep their escapades private. But once a few seconds had passed, Arthur acquiesced with a smirk and snatched a nearby tissue. Wiped himself off and tossed it in the woven wastebasket. He reclined beside her, hands folded behind his head. "Okay. Just don't give away my whole act."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​ @ithinkimaperson​ @sweet-nothings04​ @stephieraptorr​ @rommies​ @fallenstarsabyss​ @gruffle1​ @octopus-plasma​ @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @mrscarnival​

[mischiefandspirits]

Bloodlines (1 of 3)

After receiving a vague warning from his mother about his cousin and Richard, Damian goes looking for his runaway ward.

This chapter started as a flashback in the latter half of the story, but I felt like it was running on too long so I decided to cut it out and make it its own chapter. As such the events of this chapter occur a little under five years before the events of the main story, which takes place a few months after “Family Weekend.”

Part of Batkid and Robin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was surprised to see Nightwing in the Hatch when he arrived. He knew his ex-partner noticed his entrance, but the Super didn’t look up from the conversation he was having with Señal in the doorway to the infirmary.

Taking the hint, Damian turned to E-ko. “What happened?”

“We’re not entirely sure. Izzy and I were both in class and Dax was at work when Dick’s distress beacon went off so only Duke and Dre responded,” she said, glancing towards the infirmary. “By my estimate, they sent out the request for backup almost immediately after they engaged. Nightwing had been finishing up something with Metro across the bay so he responded. Izzy and I were suiting up when ‘Wing dragged them in. He thinks they were fighting talons when he got there, but the guys took off as soon as he got close. Dre was already knocked out -- drugged we think -- and Duke passed out on the way here -- bloodloss.”

“Richard?”

“Your son wasn’t there,” Nightwing said as he and Señal approached. “I didn’t know he was involved until I got here and the girls filled me in.”

“He’s not -” Damian closed his eyes and asked, “Did Signal say anything before he passed out?”

“He slurred something about Cobb and Halloway and I think he tried to say something else, but he was fading fast at that point. Didn’t recognize either name, but I’m not surprised since this seems to be Gotham stuff.”

“Nightwing.”

“Batman.”

Damian glared up at neon blue eyes. “We’re not doing this while Richard is missing.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just stay quiet then. Not sure I have anything to add since I don’t even know the kid.”

The only reaction Damian allowed himself to have was to clench his fists as he turned to Señal. “If the talons are involved, then Cobb is William Cobb. Why would he be after Richard though? The Court has only ever targeted adults for kills and street kids for would-be talons. A child from a prominent family doesn’t fit their M.O.”

“We’re not sure,” she said. “Oracle’s looking into it. In the meantime, Selina’s pulling Stephanie and Jason out of school in case they’re targeting Wayne kids. Cass and Mia are also going to bunker down somewhere safe with Tim if they can drag him away from wherever he is now on his mental breakdown road trip.”

“Don’t call it that.”

The group turned to see Duke slumped against his IV pole in the infirmary’s doorway.

“¡Bobo! Lay back down!” Señal snapped, rushing over to him.

He let his girlfriend take his weight, but didn’t let her drag him back to bed. His chest and arms were heavily bandaged and butterfly stitches were keeping a few cuts on his cheek and neck closed. He was also glaring at Señal. “Lay off Tim.”

“Sorry, I know you want to humor him.”

Duke shook his head and turned to Damian. “We’ve got a problem.”

“I know. We’ll find Richard. Go -”

“No, you don’t understand. Halloway was there. From DCF.”

It took Damian a moment, but he put the name to the face. Cathy Halloway was one of the social workers that gave him the hardest time while trying to foster Richard, but not one of the ones who’d earned his respect because they thought Damian was taking Richard in on a whim. He wasn’t sure if it was Richard’s Romani heritage she had a problem with or if it was the fact Richard was white-passing while Damian had very clearly taken after his mother, but the family had dug up a few comments made by her about keeping Richard “with his own people.”

As if the Gotham branch of the DCF had placed Richard with a family instead of in a detention center.

Backward morals aside, the Bat’s investigation hadn’t turned up anything tying her to the court. “Why was she there?”

The Hatch’s main computer lit up green, announcing Oracle’s presence. “Because Cobb told her he was Dick’s grandfather.”

“What?” Damian asked. Richard didn’t have any living relatives, the Bats checked as had DCF at the Waynes’ insistence. “Why would she believe that?”

“I’m looking into it, but she’s started the paperwork to transfer custody and she was there to help Cobb pull Dick out of school. Selina played it off like she was picking Dick up alongside Steph and Jay then went full PTA mom when she found out they’d sent Dick off with strangers. Alfred’s bringing the little Bats to you while she puts the staff through the wringer to get as much info for us as she can. I’m trying to match our maps of the Court’s labyrinth to what little information from Dick’s beacon is making it through the scramblers so, hopefully, I’ll have a location by the time you’re all suited up.”

Damian made a mental note to bring his own version of hell down on the staff if any of them survived his Step-Mother’s fury then focused back on the matter at hand. “Señal, you know the labyrinth best. Can you see if you can help Oracle? I’ll get Duke back in bed.”

She nodded and passed Duke off to him after giving her boyfriend a quick kiss.

“Sorry, Dames,” Duke said as Damian helped him back onto the medical cot. “The talons cut us off before we could get anywhere near Dick or Cobb.”

“You did your best. We know what we’re facing now. We’ll bring him home, no matter how many talons we have to freeze. Get some rest.”

Duke nodded and leaned back.

Damian returned to the main room and approached E-ko and Nightwing. He asked the latter, “Are you staying?”

The Super gave a sardonic smile. “I guess I should get going. Don’t want to overstay my welcome. Call me if you think the situation is bad enough to need outside help.”

“That’s not what -” Damian started, but Nightwing was already gone. He sighed and turned to E-ko. “Has the Court been up to anything recently that could explain coming after Richard?”

She shook her head. “They’ve been quiet since we reclaimed that youth shelter they were using to try and lure in would-be talons. We knew they’d try to find a new way to bring in kids, and trying to get their hooks in the foster system isn’t too far out there if they don’t realize we’ve been keeping a close eye on it ever since Jason, but going after someone as notable as Dick doesn’t make sense.”

“There has to be a reason.”

“Who cares, let’s just get out there and find Dickie!” Jason called as he stomped into the Hatch. He and Stephanie came towards them while Alfred went off to check on the two in the infirmary.

“Knowing why a person is doing something is very important,” Damian said and Jason scowled.

“It’s not more important than rescuing my Red Bird! Let’s go!” he snapped, shoving Damian towards the changing rooms.

“Rushing in is going to get you in trouble,” Damian huffed, but let his younger brother push him along with Stephanie trailing after.

The three quickly changed into the extra suits they kept in the Hatch in case of emergency then they, Señal, and E-ko set off towards the labyrinth entrance closest to the approximate location Señal and Oracle had decided on.

Batman took the lead, keeping an eye out for danger as Señal directed him through the tunnels. Thankfully the closer they got, the more accurate the beacon's positioning became. He was keeping a sharp eye on everything, looking for the booby traps and talons, so he immediately noticed when Señal and E-ko began to share worried looks.

“What?”

“There aren’t any mazes, meeting halls, or holding cells this way,” E-ko said. “The only things down here are…”

“Labs and cryo-caskets,” Señal finished.

“Shit!”

Batman grabbed Batkid before he could race ahead. “Hold on.”

“Hold on? I’m not going to wait around while those psychos turn Red Bird into one of those monsters!” the boy snarled, then took off down the tunnel.

“They wouldn’t start the process so soon,” E-ko tried to reassure as the four chased after him. “They always start training before beginning the Electrum injections. They want to be sure the investment would be worth it.”

A shadow slid out of a side tunnel and Batman grabbed the edge of Batkid’s cloak. He yanked the boy back just in time for the talon’s dagger to cut through the air in front of his face instead of across his throat.

E-ko intercepted the assassin with her cryo-gun as Señal repelled another two with her chain whip.

“Go find Grayson. We’ll deal with these ones,” E-ko called out and Batman nodded.

He led Batkid and Batgirl forward, bringing up Richard’s distress beacon on his gauntlet computer. They raced up to a heavy door that he quickly kicked in once confirming it was locked.

Inside, scientists and talons stood over an operating bed that held a teary eleven-year-old. Thick leather straps wrapped around Richard’s arms, legs, and chest to keep him pinned to the bed. A scientist had been preparing an iv filled with a dark silver liquid while William Cobb had leaned over Richard with his hand fisted in the boy’s hair, but all eyes turned to the Bats at their entrance.

Batkid immediately launched himself at the scientists, ripping the one closest to Richard away from him and laying into them with a fury. Batgirl and Batman tossed liquid nitrogen pellets at the talons, partially encasing three of them in ice to put them into hibernation. Batgirl engaged another two talons while Batman tackled Cobb.

“You must be getting desperate for new talons if you’re starting to steal children from Gotham’s old families, Talon.” Batman ducked one knife strike, deflected another, then landed a blow that snapped Cobb’s arm with a loud crack.

“Wayne was the one who stole him,” Cobb spat, disengaging just long enough for the Electrum to twist his bones back into place before slashing at Batman’s neck. “The Gray Son was born and raised to serve the Court of Owls. Just as his grandfather, my son, was before him.”

Batman shifted back in time for the claws aiming for his ribs to cut through nothing more than armor. “Emil Grayson was a circus acrobat.”

“Emil was raised by Nathaniel Haley to be the perfect talon, just as I was. Had Nathaniel not passed before he could return my son or instruct his own in the ways of the Court, then Emil would have surpassed even me. Instead, that fool Cameron spirited my son away to Europe. By the time the Court could reforge ties with the circus, my son was lost to us while my grandson had been raised weak and the Court had no influence over him. We could only ensure that the child he bore would receive the proper training and be returned to Gotham when the time came.”

Batman felt sick. He wanted to deny it, but Cobb had no reason to lie and the Bats hadn’t bothered to look that far into Richard’s family’s past. “The Graysons’ deaths…”

“Not the Court’s work, though it provided us with an opportunity to place the boy somewhere we could have full influence over him.”

He’d never felt better about rescuing Richard from that awful detention center. He fought down a smirk that would be both telling and uncharacteristic for Batman as he slammed his foot into Cobb’s chest, audibly breaking a few ribs. “But Wayne took him instead.”

From his place on the ground, Cobb pulled off his mask to spit out discolored blood then glared up at Batman. “It doesn’t matter. The boy is destined for the Court. Whether now or later, the Gray Son of Gotham will be a talon.”

“Never,” Batman growled, freezing the talon with a liquid nitrogen pellet.

When he turned back to the room at large, Batgirl was taking down her opponents while Batkid had tied up the scientists and was pulling off the straps. Batman went to help the boys, pulling Richard into his arms as soon as he was free. The ladies agreed to handle the talons and scientists so Batman and Batkid could get Richard up to the surface where Oracle had police cars and an ambulance waiting.

Once they were out of the labyrinth and away from any cameras the Court may have had, but before they reached the authorities, Dick pressed his face into Batman’s neck. “Dami.”

“I’m here, Dick.”

“Th-that man, he said…”

Batman tightened his grip on his ward. “I know, but I’ve got you now and I promise, the Court won’t ever touch you again.”

Richard wrapped his arms around his neck and Damian quickly ran his fingers through the black-brown curls before Batman stepped out of the shadows and passed Richard off for a paramedic to check him over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Reference:

The Batcave: Under Wayne Manor in Bristol, acts as HQ for Batman, Catwoman, and Batgirl (and Batkid)

The Perch: Under Damian and Jon's house in Somerset, acts as HQ for Nightwing and Flamebird (and Robin)

The Hatch: Under the Lucius Fox Center in Burnley, acts as HQ for We Are Future (Signal, Señal, E-ko, Flyfox, and Allegro)

The Clocktower: At the top of Gotham Clock Tower in Old Gotham, acts as HQ for Oracle and Orphan

The Roost: Under Drake Towers in Blüdhaven, acts as HQ for Black Bat and Athens

[6rookie-writer0110]

Hey let's make pluto a planet again

Male Reader x Dick Grayson

Request - Hi love you work I want to know if you can do a Dick Grayson x male reader where the reader is a secretly a Pokemon trainer and Dick the reader boyfriend found him training with his Pokemon Pikachu and Eevee. Then Dick wants to learn more about Pokemon and Pokemon battles so the reader help him to catch a Pokemon and taught him how to battle. If you can't do it ok but I hope you have a lovely day 👉🏾👈🏾❤️🧡💛💙💜

You have been dating Dick Grayson for three years now. Sometimes there are moments when you and Dick argue, but eventually work out the problem. But Dick doesn't know that you are a Pokemon trainer and you don't know how to tell him. You just don't know how his reaction will be either good or bad, you overthink so many times that you chicken out to tell him.

Before going home, you stopped by the Pokemon bakery shop. You opened the door and the bell rang.

”Y/N! How is it going? I thought I would have to call Officer Jenny to find you” Brock said.

Brock used to be the Gym Leader of the Pewter Gym. You and Brock laughed. He owns the bakery shop and he makes pastries for humans and Pokemon. You and Brock have been friends for a long time. His Vulpix comes and gets on the counter and you start to pet her.

”Sorry, I haven't been around a lot. I was in Gotham City, visiting my boyfriend” You said.

”Oh, that's why you haven't been around. So, Y/N I made fresh cookies, jelly donuts, Stew, and rice balls. How are Pikachu and Eevee doing?” Brock said.

”They are doing fine. I want to bring them dinner and snacks for them” You said.

”I missed them and I'm happy to see you again. But Y/N, don't be a stranger. So, what will you want to get?” Brock said.

”I promise I will come by more often and we should make a Pokemon play date for them,” You said.

”Good,” Brock said.

You told Brock what you wanted to get. You went home once opening the door, Eevee, and Pikachu ran to you.

”Hey guys!!” You cheerfully said.

They are really happy to see you. You put the bags on the counter then Pikachu and Eevee jumped on you. You hold them and pet them, they can't stop smiling.

”Pika Pika,” Pikachu said.

”Eve... Eevee!” Eevee said.

”Yes. I did bring food and sweets, but first, we will have dinner” You said to them.

You take out the food and bowls, you serve them the food. They love to eat dinner and watch tv with you.

You took a shower and you bathe them. They have their own beds, but they rather sleep on your other pillow.

--/--

You take Pikachu and Eevee to the park. Dick wants to see you, but he doesn't know what apartment you live in. He has never been to your place because you have Pokemon merchandise. He went back to see his car and he was about to call you but he sees you. He followed you to the park, he was going to say your name but he noticed you took something off your belt.

You threw your Poké Balls, Eevee and Pikachu came out. Dick kept watching and he has no idea what they are.

”Okay, today we will train to get strong, and later we will go see Brock,” You said.

They are happy what you said. You start to train them, Dick stepped on a stick. Pikachu and Eevee glare at Dick and they are ready to attack him.

”Dick?” You said.

”Hey, Y/N. What are they?” Dick said.

”He is my boyfriend don't attack him,” You said.

They listened to you and Dick walked closer.

”They are my Pokemon and I'm a... Pokemon trainer” You said.

”What is a Pokemon? They won't bite me?” Dick said.

”Not unless I tell them too. That is Pikachu the yellow one and that is Eevee. There are other people like me and there are over three hundred kinds of Pokemon. Some people are gym leaders, we use Pokemon and if we win then we get the gym badges, we live along with Pokemon. But there are people who use Pokemon for evil-”

”That is too much information. Saying Pokemon sounds strange. Who is Brock?” Dick said.

”Brock is a friend and he has Pokemon too. Are you mad that I didn't tell you?” You said.

”Yeah. Why you didn't tell me?” Dick said.

”I wasn't sure how you were going to react to it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I'm really sorry” You said.

”Y/N, for now on, don't keep secrets from me. I am mad that you didn't tell me, but I will let you make it up to me” Dick said.

He smiled and you gave him a small smile.

”Okay, I will make it up to you. First, I will show you where I live” You said.

✯ ✫ ✬ ✯

You take him to your apartment for the first time, Pikachu and Eevee like him. You have some Pokemon posters, action figures, pillows, and shirts. You take out the biscuits for Pikachu and Eevee then gave it to Dick.

”Feed them the biscuits. It will help you create a bond with them” You said.

”Oh okay,” Dick said.

A first he was shy about it but they take the biscuits and eat it.

”I want to learn more about Pokemon,” Dick said.

”I will be happy to teach you about it,” You said.

You and Dick sit on the couch and you take out your Kalos Pokédex. You explain to him there are different kinds of Pokédex and show him how to use it. He tries to use it but he is struggling with it. Next, you showed him the different types of PokéBalls and it's a lot.

”Babe, I want to catch my first Pokemon,” Dick said.

” It's late. Tomorrow we will wake up early and find your first Pokemon. Do you want to stay the night?” You said.

”Yeah, I will stay,” Dick said.

You gave him your shirt which says welcome to Pallet Town. You and Dick lie in bed together and he pulls you closer to him.

----

Next day, you take Dick and your Pokemon to see Brock. Brock is very happy to meet your boyfriend and Dick tried Brock’s food and he loves it. Later, you take Dick to the Poke shop to buy Poké Balls but had to explain to him again, why all of them look different. He picked Quick Balls and he is happy about it.

”So, you are not really from Metropolis?” Dick asked.

”No. I'm really from Ecruteak City is a city in the north-western part of the Johto region. I have been to Metropolis for vacation” You said.

”Next time, we should go to Ecruteak City,” Dick said.

You smiled.

”We can do that,” You said.

Eevee and Pikachu start to play together at the park. Dick screamed when he saw a bug Pokemon named; Durant.

” It's a big/steel Pokemon,” You said.

”A what!?” Dick said out loud.

You take out your Poke dex and it says;

”Durant is a dual-type Bug/Steel Pokémon. It is not known to evolve into or from any other Pokémon” Pokédex stated.

”Oh, I thought it a monster ant,” Dick said.

���So, bug Pokemon might not your first choice,” You said.

He agreed. While holding hands and walking around, Pikachu got on Dick’s shoulder and you took a picture of them. He is like a little kid, he got excited for seeing different types of Pokemon. You had to take out your Pokédex many times.

---/--

You set up the blanket while Dick takes out the food.

”Brock makes the best food ever!! I would go to his shop every day” Dick said.

”Eevee and Pikachu love his food too. Any thought what kind of Pokemon you want?” You said.

”To be honest, I don't know. I'm overthinking what should be my first Pokemon” Dick said.

He starts to feed Eevee and Pikachu. Then you and Dick start to eat the rice balls. Bulbasaur starts to smell the food, he starts to walk towards you and Dick. He used his vine whip to take Dick’s rice ball.

”Hey! Woah... What is that” Dick said.

You take out your Pokédex...

”Bulbasaur can be seen napping in bright sunlight. There is a seed on its back. By soaking up the sun's rays, the seed grows progressively larger” Pokédex said.

”You should catch it,” You said.

You give him the Quick Balls and he throws it. On the first try, he escaped.

”Try again. Usually, you have to make the Pokemon weak in order to capture it” You said.

”I don't know how to make him weak. I will try again” Dick said.

On the third try, he finally caught Bulbasaur. You and Dick start to celebrate then he kissed you.

”How do I bring him out?” Dick said.

”Throw the ball like this,” You said.

You throw your Pokeball and Dick copied your move and Bulbasaur comes out. He starts to pet Bulbasaur and they are getting along. Pikachu and Eevee became friends with Bulbasaur.

While walking around the park, you and Dick see Pokemon trainers fighting. It's Primeape vs Hitmonlee.

”Y/N, will you help me and Bulbasaur train?” Dick asked.

”Yeah sure. Now I have to explain gym battles and gym badges” You said.

”Awesome” Dick said and smiled.

✯ ✫ ✬ ✯

At you had to write down Bulbasaur’s attack moves for Dick to memorize it.

Dick is a fast learner when it came to battles. He loves Bulbasaur and they make a good team and Dick even bought a The Official Pokémon Encyclopedia book. He reads it every day and you had to explain what are evolution stones. Also, you had to explain why Eevee has so many evolution stones.

”Guys, let's go see Brock and get some sweets!” Dick said to Bulbasaur, Eevee, and Pikachu.

They cheered and they run towards the door. Pikachu and Eevee are always spoiled because of Dick.

At the shop, you look around and Brock came out.

”Hey Brock, I need a special cake because it's my anniversary with Y/N,” Dick said.

”That is great! I just made fresh strawberry and Carmel cake. I can write something on top” Brock said.

He showed the cake to Dick.

”That's perfect. Also, I want to get them treats” Dick said.

----

It started to rain hard and you got soaked. Dick is on the couch cuddling with Bulbasaur, Pikachu, and Eevee. You walked in and they see you are soaked. Dick got up and grabbed the towel and wrapped it around you. He gave you a peck on the lips.

”Go get changed but first take a hot shower and I will set up dinner,” Dick said.

”I’m starving and I'm happy to be home,” You said.

Dick kissed you again.

---

Dick surprised you with the anniversary cake ad you can't stop smiling. Pikachu is on your shoulder and Eevee is on your lap.

”Happy anniversary, Y/N,” Dick said

”Happy anniversary, babe,” You said.

It got colder and you put on Dick’s hoodie then cuddle with him on the couch. Eevee is on your lap and you start to pet Eevee, while Pikachu and Bulbasaur are eating. Dick kissed your head and you smiled

[arthurflecksgirl]

Hiii !! Can I ask you to write something (it can be short if you have a lot of request) with a badass reader who follow Joker one night because she feels that he’s worried about his « work » and don’t tell her to protect her. She finds himin a bad situation with his ennemies and she come into the place and shot them or scares them to save him(maybe he’s injuried). Joker is surprise to see her and then, they take each other in their arms and fluff and comfort follow?(I love Artie’s side in Joker)

Hey Anon <3 Thank you so much for your request. I really hope you like the result :) *I am glad you love Artie`s side in Joker*

The elegance in his movements never ceiced to amaze you. The way he walked like he followed his own kinda melody. Like his whole body was carried away by a song only  he was able to hear. To feel.  It was running through his veins, echoing in his bones and you could see it through his piercing eyes.

Even though he looked weightless, careless even, you knew he was in trouble. You always knew. Arthur and you shared a connection you couldnt name yet. The emotions he tried to hide from you to protect you....you felt them in your guts. Like they were part of your systhem.

Feeling that this love was something deeper, something so meaningful and pure, you could have never left him alone on a night like this. And if that meant you had to follow him around to not make him notice that was fine with you. It was clear that the only reason he wouldnt tell you, was because he didnt wanted you to worry about him. Or even worse, to bring you in any danger.

Arthur- Or Joker like he wanted to be called in nights like these- desired  to be your protector. Your guardian angel. The one that kept you save from any danger instead of making you face these kinda situations. But sometimes he forgot that you were his protector,too. At least when he was dressed in his red suit, his armour which made him feel like nothing could hurt him anymore. You loved to see the confident side of him. It was amazing to find him beliving in his own abilities and to actually watch him defend himself. But inside he was still Arthur. The man you loved more than anythig else in this world. And he needed to be protected at all costs. Even lying to him by telling him you will stay at home tonight, watching some movies.

Joker turned around. He felt that someone was following him. For a moment you felt bad about the fact that you were the one he felt being after him. But you had to. Your inner voice was always right and you knew him well. There was just something strange about the way he grabbed his gun before he left the house. Joker always carried his gun but today was different. It may had something to do with the group of guys he was haunting down for the last two weeks. Some really shady men, known child abusers. It was his most important "job" to find them and do what he had to do. Arthur being a victim of child abuse as well  knew what kinda monsters those people were. He woudlnt let them hurt any kid ever again.

He didnt saw you. Good. Joker checked his pockets. You only saw his back and his dancing step. He was fast. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up with him. Especially now that he started to run.

Your heartrace fastened. Why was he running all of the sudden? Did you miss something? He ran. His green, messy hair floathing through the air. You could hear him breathe heavily even from the distance. He turned around again to see if someone was following him and for a second you saw his painted on smirk. Not sure if he realized it was you, you kept running after him. If you lost him now you wouldnt be able to keep up anymore. And your feeling was telling you that trouble was ahead. A lot of trouble.

Joker ran across the street without caring about the trafic. Why would he do that? It was  the suit. It somehoe made him feel invinclible. But he was not. You decited to shout out to him. Not careing about what he thought of you following him around. "Arthur!" you yelled. Nothing. His feet continued bringing him where he wanted to be. On the other side of the street. Despite all the cars passing.

You had to stop. Otherwise a car would have hit you.

"Are you fucking insane?" a driver yelled out of his car, but you didnt reacted at all. Your mind was focused on finding a way through the traffic to keep up with him. "Joker!" you yelled as you finally made it across the street. You lost him. He was too fast.

You bend over to atch your breath. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. All of this. Maybe he would be even dissappointed finding out you followed him for thinking something was wrong. What if he would misinterpret it and think you didnt trust him enough with being able to protect himself? Your head was spinning around. This was overwhelming.

A loud noise was scaring you off your feet. An accident. You ran in the direction from which the noise was coming from and half a minute later you saw him again. He was limping but still on the run. It seemed like he was hit by a car.

"No baby, no" you said to yourself. Maybe that was the bad feeling after all.

With his foot being injured he wasnt able to run as fast as before now and it was easier to get behind him.

"Got you. You fuckers!" Jokers voice echoed through the steets. He sounded angry, hurt. Like he was about to explode.

Two men turned around. You couldnt see their faces proberly but you could tell they weren`t the type of guys you wanted to deal with. They didnt ran when they saw him. The two tall mean walked straight up to him. Joker went slower until they walked up to each other.

"Oh look, its the famous clown!" one of the guys said.

"Do you wanna hurt us by doing a little dance?" the other one laughed.

This was bad. You had to hurry up but there was acar in front of you, stopping you to cross the street.

Joker took another step towards them " I knew what you were doing to those kids....I will do a little dance after I solved that problem for sure!" he smirked, pulling the gun.

A click.

Nothing more.

It wasnt loaded.

As soon as tehy realized they kicked him to the ground.

The taller man took a knife in his hands "You know any jokes, Mr clown? Maybe one about a knife sinking into a clown?"

You watched it from the other side of the street, waiting for that car to finally drive by.

Now.

You ran up to him as far as you could.

Pulling your own gun.

Thank god Arthur gave one to you.

It was saver to have one here in Gotham city.

"Stay away from him" you yelled.

Joker tried to stand up. His nose bled all over his chin "Y/N? What...are you doing here? I wanted you to stay home SAVE!"

You pointed the gun at the two men.

"I`m sorry baby but I got a feeling like soemthing would happen today and turns out I was right."

Joker shook his head but his eyes were filled with love for you.

"Run or I will not think twice about blowing your brains out!" you shouted at them. It was then when they realized the knife wouldt work as a thread anymore.

Seconds later they decited to turn their backs and leave. You could still hear them curse a minute later.

Joker got up from the ground as you let the gun dissappear in your pocket.

You didnt hesitate to kiss his hurt nose.

"Are you okay, darling?"

He nodded "Thank you.....I...I dont know why this fucking thing wasnt loaded. I usualy double check...."

He closed his eyes as you siftly kissed his lips. Blood was dripping down his scar. You tasted it.

"Please dont be mad at me about following you. I had ths gut feeling when you left so I grabbed my stuff and ran after you. "

Joker opened his galaxy eyes "Thank god you did. But I want you to be save....I couldnt take it if you woudl got hurt...or worse...these guys" he pointed after them "...they`re very dangerous. They wouldnt hesitate to kill you".

"I know Arthur...but they wouldnt hesitate to kill you,too. And I cant let them do that."

He rubbed his eyes "If you knew what they did to those kids...they dont deserve to live"

"I know.."

"Are you....mad at me Y/N?"

You touched his hurt cheek. He was beyond beautiful. "Why would you think so?"

"For chasing after them....I know we deserve a quiet life spent in our apartment. Maybe I should stop haunting bad people. Even if they deserve it." He wrapped his arms around you and sqeezed you tight "I love you so much. I dont wanna lose you and I dont want you to lose me. Maybe I should just...give this up. I dont know...."

You grabbed his hand and you both took the long way home. His knee was hurt but he didnt wanted to use the bus. So you just walked home, hand in hand, knowing that you would die for each other.

Back home Arthur put the gun on the table and so did you. You both sat down on the couch, staring at those guns.

"You know what Y/N....maybe its time."

"For what?"

"To let Joker go" he lit himself a cig and leaned into your arms which welcomed him wholehearted.

"I dont need Joker anymore. He used to protect me from so many things but.... I got your arms now. And your love. There is no other protection like that".  A grin crossed his  red painted lips.

"Are you serious? Oh Arthur, this is one of the most beautiful things you have ever told me..."

He put his cig in his pink ashtray and leaned in to kiss you.

You squeezed him tightly. So hard you could almost feel his bones cracking. He was so fragile in your arms. All of the sudden he didnt seemed like the invincible Joker anymore. He was Arthur. A beautiful, small man with a huge heart and most of all - a brave one. Brave enough to face this cold, dark world.

Brave enough to let love in.

[harleenfleck]

Don’t forget me (Part. 3)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic

Summary: After what happened in his apartment, and even though Arthur asked you not to, you watched that night the Murray Franklin’s Show, after that night, you didn't see Arthur again in a long time, and all that time you felt melancholy and lonely, until one day, a little surprise comes to you.

Warnings: Angst, comfort, sad thoughts and fluff

Words: 5.3k

Part one here <3, Part two here <3

A/N: Hello guys, first of all I KNOW, I know that I said that part 3 was going to be the last part of this story and that it was actually going to have NSFW content, BUT my two brain cells said “Do it more parts, MORE PAAAAARTS” and my heart said “Listen that two little bastards” and well, I’ll write a 4th part f this fic cause my heart and my two brain cells said it :$  Well, this story gonna have 4 parts, and the 4 part gonna have finally NSFW omg i’m so excited about that AHHH. Well, to finish this A/N I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language. Enjoy this third part! :3 I hope you like it! 

...

“Please, don’t forget me”

“Never, my love”

The last words you’d shared with him. You remembered how fast you run in the worn wooden stairs. How you got out of that old building. So many things happened, a walk with your enemy, you witnessed of a murder, you see your best friend convert into a monster, and almost the same time, your lover.

He asked you for one thing, and you decided not do it. Remember when you came to your apartment, recharged your back against the wood, dropped to the ground and started crying in absolute silence. You passed your hand over your face, just to remember his touch. The images passed in your eyes so quickly, images of him, his face, his mouth, his green eyes. You passed almost three hours crying, so many emotions in your body, you feared your body couldn’t hold all feelings.  

You remembered when after that hours you tried to calm yourself, you were on it when the phone suddenly rang. You got up off the ground and ran to this one, waiting for your Arthur to be on the other side of the line. But for your disappointment, was Gary. He, ignorant of absolutely everything that happened, asked for Arthur, for Randall and his condolences had been sent to Arthur. What could you tell Gary? That Arthur had lost his mind? that Randall was dead? You decided to protect Arthur, protect him even if his act was horrible. You said to Gary some lies, like Randall never went to the subway station, you go alone and you and Arthur talked about a lot of things. Gary said something like "I told you Y/N" and kept talking. When the talk was over, you hung up nervously.

Looked the at clock, 15 minutes before the Murray Show. Nervous and eager to watch the show, you tentatively approached your couch and turned on the TV, turned on the channel and waited anxiously. Before Murray's show there were some news, you saw about some clown protests, you couldn't believe that all this had been caused by Arthur. The news was over, Ellis Drane and his orchestra drums were played, the show started. You watched the show without interest in Murray and the others guest, you just waited until Arthur's turn came. And when he appears, you felted so happy for him, despites he appears with a new name: Joker. When you saw him, you felt so much joy, coming out of those curtains dancing, spinning, greeted the presenters, but you not really like the joke that Arthur kissed Dr. Sally. You really jealous of an old lady? Maybe.

The show went smoothly, you waited why Arthur didn't want you to watch the show. Nothing bad seemed to happen, more than Murray's mocked of Arthur with the others guests. Was it serious? Did they make fun of Arthur even on that show? You could feel the anger in your stomach. But surrender, you heard Arthur's black humor joke, which worried you, why Arthur would make jokes like that? He was scolded by Dr. Sally and Murray but he don't care about they words, and then, what you didn't expect happened: Arthur confessed his crime.

It was a huge moment of tension, from how all the joy of the show changed abruptly to a more serious and darker tone. Why would Arthur do that? Why would he confess he killed that three rich of the subway to everyone? You couldn't believe it. And that wasn't the worst. Arthur said things that had sense to you because he told you every horrible thing he lived before. Maybe no one would understand because Arthur said they were all awful, only you could understand it.

The tension between Arthur and Murray was rising, you feared that Arthur would lose control again, you tried to call the show while still watching TV, but (obviously) your call was not answered. You went back to the couch, without expecting it to happen, which could happen, and then...

Arthur pulled out that cursed gun and pointed Murray's head.

"ARTHUR NO!"

Shot.

The symphony of terror was heard, screaming from people, a one of the guests hugging a hysterical Dr. Sally, Murray's bloodied body, and Arthur dancing, then he come to the camera and saying the words:

“Goodnight, and always remember, that’s li-“

You closed your eyes, you started crying one more time. You knew Arthur had asked you, and you should have listened to him. Your heart broke again, your body trembled once more. Arthur had hurt you again.

“Y/N? Y/N? Earth to Y/N, are you in?”

You blinked; you were watching the TV of your new job. It was the news, announcing the anniversary of that terrible event.

“Yeah, sorry, I distracted a little”

“Y/N, you’re been rare those weeks, are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry Celeste, I’m gonna… Clean that”

A year passed from that event, in that year, things had changed too much. You lost your job at Ha-ha's, result that was the place where the terrible criminal Joker had come from, all the clowns in there lost their job. Hoyt was turned a rage, he was understandable, he had lost his business. Some clowns got a job at other agencies, others simply stopped being a clown and preferred to dedicate themselves to something else. You and Gary were from that second group of people. Gary decided to go back to his native Vermont, however, being a good friend to you, he managed to get you a job with some old friends. Now you worked in a small but charming cake shop.

"Celeste, Y/N, hello ladies. I'm back with the sugar and butter” Peter, another coworker from the shop, entered to the place "Well Peter! You'd better help me! Orders are delayed!" Celeste was a very kind woman, but she quickly lost the patience, Peter, who was a little older than you, just laughed and carried things. "What's the matter Y/N? Are you sad again?"

“No, I’m just… Just watching the news again”

“The news again? Y/N, watch a lot of news not good for your mental health, why don’t put the music channel or something kindlier?”

“… I can’t do that” Slowly, you turned your head to the TV again. The news said a lot of terrible crimes after that event. Most of these crimes were attributed to a single criminal: The Joker. After Murray was killed, Joker was arrested, but in the course of jail the patrol was intercepted by more clowns and Joker was free. And so, he began a terrible reign of crimes all over Gotham for a long time.

"Now, this dangerous man still free of the justice, it’s considerate a lunatic criminal, many criminalities that our poor city has suffered have been under his hand. The police can't find where this guy is hiding, who is now known as "The Clown Prince of Crime" and t-"

The Tv turned black “Peter!” You yelled.

“Sorry little princess, but this is for you, I don’t want you get sick for this. I know you get nervous of that clown, honestly, I get nervous too, but you have to continue your life, that clown not gonna go for you specifically, just the people with bad luck drop to his Clown Clan. Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be okay”

“Peter! The sugar and butter!” Celeste screamed from the kitchen.

“Sorry Celeste! I’m coming!” Peter run to the kitchen and you still cleaned the counter. Maybe Peter was right, you shouldn’t get worry for Joker, but you don’t really get worried, you got sad, sad for Joker, because you know under the makeup and the costume, Arthur are there. You were hoping Arthur would be there. A year passed and maybe Arthur was right, maybe you’d never see him again, like he said to you.

You knew he was doing bad things, all the damage they caused him was returning ferociously, he was no longer a weak person that people could mock, he was someone that people should be afraid of, and poor of the one who scoffed him, because that someone would give it to you would end up their corpse in a Gotham blackwater canal. Just imagining Arthur dressed as a clown, like that last time you saw him, killing someone mercilessly and cruelly.

And for some reason, it didn't cause you conflict, you didn't fall into the reality of the danger he had become, you knew it wasn't your Arthur anymore, but you still loved him. Despite that horrible things he does it, you still in love with him. Of course, in that year, some boys and man tried something with you, including Peter, who wasn't giving up yet, but none of those boys were Arthur. None of them were him. And despite all the time, you still felted the butterflies in your stomach when you thought in him, you cheeks get blushed when you remembered you two almost made the love in that old bed, your lip trembled when the memory of your first kiss with him touched your soul again. Memories stalked you as if they were a ghost in your room in the dark, but a ghost you weren't afraid about.

You put your head in the counter and got a big breath, what you can do in that moment about Arthur? What can you do with your feelings? What can you do with that love that wasn’t for anyone, that love was just for him?  “I’m really fucked up” you whispered to yourself.

The days after you did your work routine. You'd come to the cakeshop, make coffee for your companions and to sell too, help Celeste decorate some cakes, while Peter made other cakes and desserts. When the cakes to sell were ready, you put them in some refrigerators and you were going to serve the customers at the counter. One particular day, you were alone at the counter while Celeste was screaming at Peter for not making gingerbread man biscuits, the winter times were coming. You wanted to turn on the TV, but you knew you'd only put the news to see if there was anything new with Joker. You had to control yourself, while secretly eating a slice of cake that Peter had given you along with a rose. He was someone very meticulous, willing to win your heart, even you had kindly mentioned to him on previous occasions that you weren't interested in being someone's girlfriend. Well, only one person, but it was definitely out of your reach.

The bell above the front door rang. You saved the cake quickly, you didn't want Celeste to yell at you, even though she never done it before. But wasn't a customer, was a delivery man. “It’s the lady Y/N working here?”

“Yes, I am”

“Well, this is for you” You poked your head out of the corner just to find with a huge bouquet of …

“Lilies? That’s are a Lilies?! I love the lilies!” You went straight to the delivery man and took the bouquet with your hands. You are blushed again. At this point, Celeste realized what was going on and ran away, excited that you had received flowers. Peter only watched the scene from afar. You thanked the delivery man and he just left.

“Oh! Y/N! Look at you! What a beautiful bouquet! And your smile! Wait, I have here my camera! Wait Y/N!” Celeste runs for her camera. You still watching your flowers, your eyes were full of charm. Celeste returned and took you a lot of pictures, asking you to pose near the cakes and desserts.

“Take it! All for you Y/N! Oh my god, I hope that boy who sent you these flowers has won your heart” Celeste gave you all the polaroid, a burning smell made her remember that she had left a couple of cupcakes in the cooker and ran into the kitchen. You and Peter were alone.

"Well, this is a beautiful detail, lilies have always been my favorites"

"So, my little princess, that mean I have a rival and he’d basically beaten me this time?"

“Rival? Wait, wasn’t you?”

“No. I’m a man of roses, I never thought in lilies. Well, I hope that riv-“ Celeste claim help of Peter, he had no choice but to follow his boss's orders. When Peter left the place you wondered to yourself, Peter wasn't the one who sent you those flowers? Even if it had some logic, since you never told him that lilies were your favorite flowers. You tried to remember the boys and men who tried to conquer you, and none of them you had mentioned that lilies were your favorite flowers. Then you remembered the only man you told that little piece of you.

That’s Impossible. You thought, because that’s true, that's impossible. He’s now a criminal, a bad man, even some press said he was a terrorist. And all that they said about him was on your knowledge, because you witnessed one of his first crimes. Of course, he wouldn't have time to do something like that, you even thought maybe he'd consider that cheesy. Actually, you thought he had already forgotten you.

You looked at your flowers, you went for a little vase that only accumulated dust, washed it and put water in it, so your flowers could hold out a little longer before taking to home. You looked in for a note that indicated who would have been the secret admirer, but there were no clues. Knowing you wouldn't have your answer, you back to work.

That night, you left a little late for work, said goodbye to Celeste and Peter, and walked to your house, the job was closer to your house, you didn't have to run like on previous occasions when you worked at Ha-ha's. However, you turned a corner where street lighting failed, looking very scary. You walked a little further, looking everywhere, making sure no one came near you. You hated having to go down that street. Fortunately, nothing bad happened that time.

You arrived safely home, you put your beautiful lilies in a vase. You had that silly smile on your face. No Y/N, it can't be him. You thought for yourself. He's now busy in... Another kind of thing. I don't think he remember you.  Those words, no matter than they sounded, were full of reason. But you gave yourself the little luxury of thinking in him, imagining that he actually sent you those flowers and that he would soon come back to you. Just imagine, but no more illusions.

The next day, you did the same thing every day, but there was a special glow this time in you. Celeste, your boss, noticed. "My God Y/N, you look so radiant and so happy, I'd love to meet your lovely prince to congratulate him," she said excitedly as she put some chocolate cookies and gingerbread man cookies in a basket, you just laughed. When Celeste came back to the kitchen, Peter came up to you.

"I'd also like to meet that charming prince who has you delighted. Looks like he wants to make your days sweeter."

Laughing, you went to the cookie basket and took one of the gingerbread man cookies in your hands, smiling foolishly.

“Well, I don’t think he’s a prince charming, Actually, I don’t like the concept of prince charming”

“No? And what you like?”

You watched TV at the time, one more news of Joker, just in that moment, a picture of him came out on screen, with that wicked but charming smile.

“Another kind of prince" You bit the cookie along with a smile.

…

You didn't even know if it was him, but as the days went on, the delivery man with more lilies returned to you, Celeste became exaggeratedly happy and Peter gradually realized that he was not going to achieve his goal of you falling in love with him. Of course, he wouldn't, he even stopped calling you “Little princess" like he once in a while, and being honestly, you hated how he dubbed you that way. Things were going well in your life, for the first time in a long time, but soon, everything would take an unexpected turn for you.

One night, coming home with another bouquet of lilies in your hands, you'd come out of the elevator to head to your apartment, only to find another surprise at your doorstep: Another bouquet of flowers, but they were not lilies or roses, it was a Bouquet of artificial flowers that came out of a magic wand. And you knew that magic wand perfectly. You took it with your free hand, in this bouquet if there was a note, and there was only one letter: J. Your senses trembled with that note. Immediately you entered the apartment, however, there was nobody.

You were impressed, would it be him? Would he come back for you? You didn't know, and it would be best if he got out of hiding once and for all. You were getting too excited about his return. Or maybe he wanted to let you know he was okay. But your heart inflated like a balloon again, and you were floating in love. You did your nighttime bedtime routine before you went to sleep, but instead of wearing your usual pajamas, you wore a short nightgown in a silk robe, something inside you said you had to wear it. You sat in your bed, waiting for that "something" that had to happen, but while you waited, you fell asleep soundly.

Knock knock

“Huh?” You heard someone knocking, quickly you get out of the bed, stumbling, because the knocked of the door sounds more and more louder. “Coming!” You yelled and before to open the door you looked at the clock, who would be knocking on your door at 1 A.M.? Without looking through the peephole, you opened the door, and you could swear that your heart stopped for a few seconds.

“Hello Y/N”

“…A-Arthur?”

He was there, in your door, with his green hair, that elegant clown suit, that clown makeup, breathing deeply, and with his pretty smile. Arthur was there, converted in Joker.

“It’s been a very long time, don’t you think?”

You didn't know what to answer, because again you speechless. You just opened the door more, implying he could get into your apartment, and so he did. You closed the door slowly, not knowing what to do say. Arthur was back in your life, your suspicions (or rather desires) would come true, and you didn't know how to react. You must have been angry about leaving you and becoming a dangerous criminal? Or smile at him, thank him for coming back and giving him a warm welcome?

“Oh, I see you received all my little gifts, your house looks so adorable with that lilies, you like it Y/N?” Arthur said when he was seeing all the bouquets you received in every little place of your apartment. He noticed you don’t say nothing and he worried, no longer smiling. Without words to said, you looked at his face, you felted like in one of that dreams you had when you miss him.

“W-what are you doing here?” You asked something frightened, fearing that all of that was really a dream. But it wasn't, Arthur was just next to you, or how he called himself now, Joker. He was a little skeptical of your question, doubting if he should answer it or not, because he did not know how to explain his sudden appearance.

“Oh… Well… It’s… It’s complicated to explain” He giggled nervously, and you don’t understand why “I… Just want to see you, but also, I got in a trouble too…”

“Wait, what?” shaking your head, you suddenly get confused “What you want to say, you’re in danger?”

“No exactly that, if were like danger, I would have looked for another hiding place. I just… Running of the police…”

“Oh…” You felt a little confused. Your mind thought of something that immediately hurt your feelings, He only come back to you just to hide? For a moment you believed he was actually there for you. You were always trying to see the good side of things, but this time it was impossible. Your sad face was evident instantly, but you separate yourself from him and turned your back on him before he could notice your disenchantment “I-I think you can stay here, while the cops, well, you know, stop looking you or something” You hated yourself because in this time you couldn’t hiding your emotions, your broke voice ratted you and he perceived it.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Arthur asked when he walked to you, put himself in front you, so, he could see how you tried to hiding your face to him. “Y/N? What happens baby?”

“Everything… Everything happened Arthur… It’s just… Strange to me this”

“Strange? Why you say that?”

“Because… I don’t know… I-I just to think you won’t back again after you converted in Joker… I mean, I always heard about you in the news for all crimes you committed, and I really thought you don’t remember me, but you’re… you’re here again and… Oh, what the hell I’m talking? I’m sorry, this is stupid” You felt silly, more when the tears started to fall on your cheeks. You tried to step aside, but Arthur stopped you

“Hey Y/N, come here” He immediately hug you, and you couldn’t hold it, you broke in tears in his chest while he caressed your head and neck. You could feel his body against yours, you could feel his arms start to surround you, you could even hear his heart beating. It was real, so real. Definitely that wasn’t a dream. “I know, I know I was so away from you, I know I did some bad things, a lot of horrible things. I didn't want you to be related to me, both police and some enemies I've got” While the tears run out of your eyes, you still hugged him tighter.

He whispered in your ear “You want to hear a secret?" You nodded and Arthur took your cheeks "There was no day I didn't stop thinking about you. I missed you Y/N; you can’t imagine how much I missed you. I just wanted to protect you, that’s all, protect you..." Suddenly his voice weakened in the last word and his eyes stopped staring at you. Now it was your turn to worry about him.

“Arthur?”

“I said I wanted to protect you, but… Always want to protect you I hurt you, in some way I did it… Fuck…” You felted his body shaking while he put his face in your shoulder “I’m so sorry Y/N…”

“Arthur… You… Don’t be sorry, please… It’s okay, I swear it’s okay” You can’t stop to hug the each one, slowly, you smelled the scent of his hair, was the same scent you knew perfectly “You know what? I missed you too, God, you don’t have idea…”

“Long year, right?” You two shared a laugh. You took his hands and looked him in the eye, acting like a girl really in love with her boyfriend, because that's what you were, a girl in love with her boy. You led him to the couch and both sat down, you two had so many things to say to each other.

“What did you do this time for the cops to be looking for you?"

“Eh, nothing special, I just wanted to do something little, nothing that could hurt anyone”

“But what you did it?”

“I wanted to rob a jewelry store” Blinked, you laugh a little. He seconded the laugh.

“Why you want to steal a jewelry store?”

“Well, the other day I looked a pretty necklace, I swear it, that necklace was white with a little gem that looked like a drop, I observed it and I think of you. I said “This is for Y/N”, obviously I want more for you, but this one was special, this necklace was for you. I wanted to took it for our reunion. I was planned all, but the cops ruined all my plans”

"What were your plans Arthur?" You asked full of curiosity, you wanted to know how was the mysterious plan of Arthur to come back to you.

"Oh... Well, I wanted to do something that surprised you. It wasn't easy to find you after Ha-ha's closed, I looked for you in everywhere place of all Gotham, and after a lot I found you. I wanted to go into that cake shop where you work, ask you maybe a couple of desserts to taste them later, give you that beautiful necklace that I'm sure will look beautiful on your neck and take you with me"

“W-What?”

“You heard it. I want you; I want you with me, I only thought in you this year. I decided you'd come with me, but I didn't want to put you at risk, that’s why I take my time, but everything isn't ready yet, I still can't take you with me. I have to fix a couple more things to make you completely safe."

Arthur said it with great emotion, because it was what he had waited for so long, he wanted to take you to his place, protect you in his own way from Gotham's adversity, he knew better than anyone how cruel and terrible crime could become in the city and did not want you to be part of those figures that the press used to

“Oh…” However, despite how excited Arthur looked, how enthusiastic he was to tell you all his plans, for some reason you saw the pessimistic side of things. It was something you've been used to since Arthur let the darkest part of his being come out. With much fear and tears threatening to come out of your eyes again, you asked him a question “Are you saying you would let me again?”

Confused, Arthur looked at you and realized what you meant “No, no, definitely no Y/N” He hugged you again, putted his hands in your back and caressed “I promise you I’ll back, I swear”

“I don’t want you to leave again, please don’t leave me” The drops stained the red fabric of his blazer "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of you, believing you were by my side when you really you are not there. Please, stay here, stay here" You had to repeat that twice because it was what your soul asked, to stay with you again “I don't fucking care if you're someone dangerous now, if you're someone everyone should be afraid of, just stay here please… Stay here."

Hearing you cry and begging broke Arthur's heart, he felt guilty of leaving you alone for so long. You were the only person who could calm that dark part of himself, you were the only one who could serene Joker.

"Listen…" He stopped hugging you to take your cheeks, he made you see his face "Of course I won't leave you alone Y/N, you're the best girl I've ever met, you're the only person who really loved me, if I got a choice to spend my whole life by your side, I would do it without thinking about it. You're my one and only one, I don’t wanna miss you again…"

“Arthur…” His name trembled on your lips. That name haunted you for a long time.

"I love you so much Y/N, and I want to protect you, let me take care of some matters, some things that... What do I have to do, work to do, then I'll come for you and we'll be together, okay?"

“… Okay”

Caressed your face with his hand, Arthur calms you with his touch.

"I'll be with you tonight. And before you know it, we'll be back together, what do you say?"

"I could wait for you for a year, I can wait for you for my whole life"

At that moment, you noticed that Arthur took off his blazer along with his yellow vest. You were frozen for a moment, until he spoke.

"You must be tired, I interrupted your dream, come here" Arthur wrapped you back in his arms, as he recharged his back on the back of the sofa. You lay on his chest, feeling his warm, and hearing his heart beats. "Let's sleep together tonight"

"Yes, you have to stay tonight, I don't want the police to catch you and this time ruin our real plans".

He laughed at your comment, but despite the enormous confidence he had gained at that time, you could feel beneath you his anxiety in his leg, which he kept moving. For a moment, you thought you two were going to return what you had left pending in his old apartment, but Arthur was just hugging you, stroking your hair and your face. Maybe he wasn't ready to take that step with you yet, maybe he thought doing it with him at a time like that would be a bit rushed. Maybe he wanted to keep that special moment between you two when you were finally together safely. And you realized he hadn't even kissed you on your lips, but you knew deep in your heart that he still loved you.

Your eyelids become heavy, and you fell into a deep sleep. Arthur was just looking at you as you rested in his arms. He really loved you, he wanted you to be just his and for him. And he hated having to keep waiting. But he knew everything in the end would be worth it…

He just saw all the lilies he gave you in those last few weeks, and the scent of those flowers made him sleep early

…

You woke up, you still felt his arms in your body, feeling protected. But his arms were no longer there, nor was his body under yours either. You woke up completely to realize you were alone in your apartment's living room. You blinked many times and looked everywhere. Was that a dream too?

If it was, I'm really fucked

You got up off the couch, started looking all over your apartment, realizing you were completely alone. You let yourself down, that dream had felt so real, and you be concerned too, your imagination was long lived lately. You had to take a shower before you went to work at the bakery. At the end of it all, it had been a great dream.

But when you were preparing the bathtub, you decided to look in the mirror, and you found out there was red and white paint on your forehead and cheek, plus there was another little stain on the knuckles of your hand. You came out of the bathroom and you didn't realize there was a small note on the small table in the living room. You took it between your fingers, excited and read it.

"Sorry I left without saying goodbye, though now that I think about it, there shouldn't be a goodbye, because there won't be any more goodbyes, right, Y/N? I'll be back soon for you, it's a promise. I won't forget you.

J”

And then, that silly smile in your face appears. You kissed that note. Definitely was a promise.

Continue.

[queenofgotham800]

Kitty-Cat

(Roman Sionis x Reader x Victor Zsasz)

Requested by: @oneandonlyizabelle

(A/n): I'm sorry this took me so long. I hope you will enjoy it 💜🐈

Warnings: Gramatical Errors, Swearing, Blood, Death

This is story of one kitten, who got lost from her owner. Here on streets, she was free, even tho she missed food, milk and of course her owner. Streets of Gotham City were huge, It wasn't like her little home.

That day, she was seraching some food, close to Black Mask club. In her world it was nothing, but another building in Gotham City.

Her eyes were looking on doors of that building, which suddenly opened. She wanted to run away, but her curiosity made her stay.

You came outside of the Black mask club sitting on stairs, pouring milk to few bowls, putting them on ground like every day. The cats were curious and thirsty, but only one of them came to you. She was black with scar through her eye. It reminded you Victor, and you smiled. Kitten was purring and you smiled, stroking her fur on head.

"Hey kitten, you came here again?" you smiled and opened the doors letting her into the club.

Little kitten was totally feeling out of her place, mostly becouse these buildings were just some background for her, and now they took whole another meaning to her. She sat in front of the doors, waiting for you.

"Aww, you are so cute," you held her up, carrying her through the club like a baby, looking for Roman and Victor.

"Darling? Look at this baby, she is so cute," you said, comming closer to Roman, who was dealing with some business, talking with two mans, that looked angry, becouse of you interupted their meeting.

You handed the cat to Roman, who was unsure if he should take her on his suit or bath her first.

"So... That's the cat..," Roman said, refusing to touch her. "Yeah.. Sorry about that by the way," you smirked as you thought at the accident that happened yesterday. Roman accused Victor of stealing milk from his fridge, and they had serious argument about it. Then you came and explained to them both, that you gave it to cats on streets.

"Look how cute is she," you smiled and said, "Pleaseee."

The two gangsters next to him were nervous, giving you ugly glares, which you ignored.

"Love, she is very cute, indeed, but i have some work to do," Roman leaned closer to you and whispered, "Those guys are big Tim and bigger Jim, and they are very dangerous honey."

"Then be safe," you said, giving him kiss.

"That's enough," big guy Tim behind Roman standed and pointed a weapon on him. Roman sighed and smiled, "and this is why I wanted to do the business in my warehouse," he turned to them, expecting Victor to appear from nowhere. But he didn't, you didn't see his blond hair, that you loved so much.

"Where is Victor?" Roman rolled his eyes, turning back to you.

"I have no idea, I couldn't find him in club.." you mumbled.

"I said that's enough!" shouted Tim again. Crowd of people was watching you with interest. They weren't afraid, they were just curious. In the crowd was surely many people who wanted Roman dead.

Then you did something unexpected. You stood in front of the guy with weapon, Roman was behind you. "Babe, stop it," he wanted to stop you, but you already pushed your head towards the gun.

"What? Are you going to shoot me or not," you laughed, watching his confused expresion.

"No, no way, nobody is gonna get hurt in my club and especialy not my girlfriend," Roman said, slowly catching your shoulder.

"No," second gangster Jim came to Roman, pointing a gun against his head too.

"As you wish," Tim said to you, ready to pull the trigger.

Suddenly the cat jumped from your arms on big Tim's face, who didn't responded fast enough, and simply forgot he is holding a gun, letting the trigger go, falling on the floor with little cat on his face.

He screamed and you felt Roman's hands pulling you closer, to the safe space as bigger Jim ran to help his brother.

"Don't move Tim, i'm gonna shoot that fucking thing from your face!" Jim screamed, aiming with the gun on little kitten.

"No!" you reached for the plate, on which were three drinks. As you took it, three glasses felt down, spilling the alcohol on floor, breaking. You didn't cared, and neither did Roman. Bigger Jim, was big, for sure, but not that tall you wouldn't reach his head. Roman smiled, watching you smacking the iron plate through the head of bigger Jim. Roman could swear he heared his head crack.

"Ugly piece of shit," you mumbled as Jim felt on ground, possibly dead. Then you came and took the kitten from Tim's face. "Ewww.. Roman, call somebody to clean this mess," you said as you saw the Tim's eyes. He was alive, breathing, screaming. His eyes were full of blood, which was running down on the floor like a river. "Yeah, sure, ehm.. Waitress?" he stopped some waitress and told her to clean bloody floor together with bartender.

"Well, now I'm scared," Roman came to you still refusing to look at the cat, while she angrily hissed at him. "But she is so cute," you smiled, but Roman looked concerned. "Babe, please, don't do this again.." he said, holding your cheek. You catched his hand and kissed it, "What else should I do? Watch how is somebody every day pointing a gun at you? I am tired of it... And I still love saving you," you whispered to him and he licked his lips at the thought of you saving him. It was a secret, which only you and Victor knew about. Roman was dominant, but from time to time he loved to be submissive one too.

"I should look for Vic," you said, "if he's not here, he will be upstairs."

"Kay, we will meet in the dining room, when dinner comes," Roman smiled, kissing you, "I ordered some pizza, I know you and Victor love it, " Roman watched you leave with kitten, upstairs to your shared apartment.

"Victor? Vic? Are you here?" you shouted through the apartment. At first it was quiet, and then Victor finaly shouted back, "Yeah princess, but you will have to find mee," you rolled eyes and listened to his humming melody of some song. "I have a surprise for you," you said, loudly, so he could hear you. "You do? I have too," Victor's voice was close.

You stopped next to doors, leading to the little room, which Victor used like workshop, to modify weapons. You knocked, "Can i go in?" you asked.

"Yes," he said and you opened the doors. His workshop was a mess of iron, steel, gun powder. Many guns were laying on floor and you nearly tripped over them.

"Look, I made you new knif.." he said, and then his eyes moved from you, to the cat. He was surprised and the cat hissed at him. Victor smile dissapeared as you came closer to him, giving him the cat.

"No, No, princess please don't.." he backed with worried look.

"Oh, C'mon, she was outside i brought her that milk from our fridge," you smiled and Victor lifted eyebrows. "So, this is the little kitten," he mumbled and tried to stroke her head. Kitten hissed at him again and scratched him. "Auch," Victor pulled away his hand. "Baby, we don't do this, okay, not to Victor and not to Roman," you turned kitten to your face and scolded her. "Sorry, Vic, she is just scared a bit." you turned to Victor.

"Scared, huh? Take the knife, I made it for you," Victor said, giving you the sharp knife.

"Oh, thank you so much," you put kitten down on floor, took the knife from Victor and tried some tricks with it.

"What is on dinner?" Victor asked and you smiled. "I am preparing dinner tomorrow love, today it's Roman's turn." you said and kissed him.

Breakfasts and lunches were prepared by servant's which worked for Roman, but dinner was special. Every day, one of you prepared the table and choosed the food, it was nice habit that you three had.

While was Roman preparing the table, setting up some candles, Victor came to him and asked.

"What's on dinner?"

Roman looked at him and smiled, "Pizza."

"Sorry about that.. You know.. The thing yesterday," Roman apologized.

"About.. That milk from fridge?" Victor asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," Roman mumbled as he lit up the last candle.

"You don't have to be sorry, by the way did you saw the little kitten, with scar on her eye?" Victor asked him, "(Y/n) brought it here today, she looked happy with it."

"That kitten?" Roman asked scared, "Please tell me it's not in my.. our club," Roman shouted.

"I have no idea actually, (y/n) was at my workshop and she put her on floor. After that, she left and the kitten left too, I don't know," Victor caught his head.

"That kitten is not a kitten, it is a beast! You didn't saw what it done to big Tim. His eyes ended up on the fucking floor!" Roman was stressing and came to his sofa, turning to Victor.

"Victor, don't move," Roman said pointing behind Zsasz.

"What?" Victor asked and wanted to turn but Roman stopped him.

"Just. Don't move, kay?" Roman whispered this time.

You were tired, after you stopped in Victor's workshop, you went down to club to have some fun.

"Dinner should be ready in five minutes, I should go," you mumbled to yourself, going upstairs to the apartment. After you put down little kitten, you didn't saw her and you hoped she is alright, somewhere in apartment. As you went upstairs, you heared screams of Victor and Roman. It woken you up a bit and you ran through the apartment to help your boyfriends. They were in living room. You caught the knife, which Victor gave you, ready to attack the uninvited guest.

After you rush in there, you dropped the knife on ground as you watched Roman, standing on sofa screaming after kitten, which was licking her paws on ground and Victor, who was trying to protect Roman with pillows.

"Hold that monster away from me!" shouted Roman. They didn't noticed you, holding back laugh as you watched them.

"Where is (y/n) when we need her?" Victor mumbled.

"Right here," you smirked and walked closer to the cat, "Can you explain me please what is happening?" you asked and took kitten in your arms.

"That beast scratched me!" Victor shouted.

"Oh, C'mon, you have a lot of scars Vic," you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I mean.. She could kill us," said Roman, stepping down from sofa, fixing his suit.

"She? No.. She would not do that. Right?" you asked looking in kittens eyes.

"Meow," kitten meowed and you kissed her on top of her head.

"I'm sorry, I think you have something mine," someone came into living room. He had long coat and suit, not expensive like Roman's, but still elegant. You turned to him, and asked, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I am the owner," he said and whistled. In second, little kitten recognized her owner, jumping down from your arms.

"Shadow, I missed you," he smiled on the kitten and then looked on you, "Thank you, for taking care of her. She got lost, I serached her whole weeks and when i saw you in this club with her, my hopes were restored. I thought she is lost forever," he smiled at you.

"We are glad that you found her," said Roman comming closer to him, but still keeping distance from the kitten.

"Well, you can visit her whenever you want," Owner smiled, giving you his number and adress on paper.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, taking the paper.

"Goodbye," Victor turned him to exit and waved.

After the owner of the little kitten named Shadow left, you were sad.

While dinner, you didn't talked as usual and Victor with Roman noticed something is wrong.

"What is happening my love?" Roman asked you, putting second slice of pizza on your plate.

"I just miss the kitten," you said, stabbing the pizza with fork.

"Hey, love don't be sad, we can look for some pet in shop," Victor smiled at you reassuringly.

"And we will go check the shop tommorow." said Roman, and you smiled at both of them.

[nxrthmizu]

-Lordbug, Robin, and Kitty Noir- Chapter One: ‘In Which Damian Saves The Day In A Spotted Spandex’

/Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight//Part Nine//Part Ten//Part Eleven/

---

Description: Daminette AU in which Damian has the Ladybug/Lordbug miraculous by accident but he has to keep being Robin too so he switches between the two and of course the Marinette x Black Cat that we’ve all needed

Warnings: Mild but censored cursing

---

“I’m going to be late for school!” Marinette blubbered as she gathered her things chaotically, shoving them into her backpack clumsily. “Bye mama, papa!” 

“Bye sweetie, see you after school!” Sabine calls out with a laugh as her bumbling daughter races out the door in hurry, her pigtails flying the air as she dashed to school. 

---

“I do not understand why I have to school in Paris!” Damian protested angrily. “I do not wish to be among idiots who barely speak English!” 

“But you speak French.” Dick pointed out with a chuckle. “You can communicate via French.” 

“I want to stay in Gotham as Robin!” Damian growled, glaring at his father, who only shrugged. 

“Look, it’s only this or the Teen Titans, and seeing as you already don't agree with them, the only other choice is to go with Alfred’s old master.” Bruce told him monotonously, stating that it was the end of the argument. 

Alfred noted neutrally. “I am sure that Master Fu would be delighted to have you, Master Wayne.” 

Growling angrily at his defeat in the argument, Damian stormed off into his room, refusing to speak to his father before his flight to Paris. 

---

After landing in Paris, Damian realized that no, he didn't dislike the city, he hated it. The city of love and romance- Ironic, seeing as he hated love and romance and had no intention of getting acquainted with anyone at all. Upon getting off the plane, Damian decided that he was going to be worse little shit he could be- He’d be so bad that Alfred’s ‘Master Fu’ would send him home within two weeks. Smirking with his plan in mind, Damian forced a smile, catching a cab to ‘Master Fu’s massage shop. 

---

“Damian! You have finally arrived.” Master Fu greeted with a smile. “Your bedroom is upstairs, left to the stairs.” A green ‘fairy’ that Alfred had told him mildly about greeted him cheerily. 

“Hello! I’m Wayzz.” The ‘kwami’ as Alfred had called it- Smiled at him. “I’ll show you to your room.” 

Damian rolled his eyes, having seen enough of astonishing sights to not even flinch at the sight of the weird-looking turtle. 

---

Marinette was angry. So, that blonde boy- Adrien Agreste- Was trying to put gum on her seat?! And he was friends with Chloe? Chloe had friends? Brushing the angry though away, Marinette sighed as she began to stroll home, but not before she saw an old man attempting to cross a four-lane road. 

Rushing forward to help him (Because that’s what nice people do) she aided him across the road, smiling as she did so. However, in her kind act, her bag- Which she had left unzipped- Poured out its contents chaotically, making the girl shriek in panic. She apologized swiftly and picked up the spilled contents of her bag, not noticing when he sneaked a little hexagonal box into her bag, watching her as she scurried away.  

---

“So, you’re a Kwami, huh?” Damian asked, scoffing at the green turtle. 

Wayzz raised an eyebrow at this. “I wonder why Master took you in if he knew you were going to be this rude.” 

Damian scoffed, clearly annoyed. “As if I want to be here at all.” 

The Kwami harrumphed angrily, fed up with the boy. When the Kwami had flown out of sight, Damian decided that he was going to do some sneaking around before the master returned. Sneaking downstairs, he approached the table in which many Chinese ornaments were displayed. Curious, he inspected each one of them carefully before he came across a small, hexagonal box. Seeing the latch easily opened, Damian picked up the box, opening it. 

If he expected something to happen, what happened was definitely not within his expectations. When a red ball of light approached him, his first reaction had been to back away, because how does one react in such a situation? 

“Hello! I’m Tikki, and I’m the Kwami of Creation.” The Kwami introduced. “You’re the new holder of the Ladybug miraculous!” 

Damian gulped. He did not want that. “I’m sorry, but I opened you by accident. Please go back.” 

But no, Tikki refused. “You opened me, and i can sense that you are a Ladybug. I’m not letting you renounce me.” 

Damian raised an eyebrow. “I do not want to be a Ladybug.” 

Tikki shrugged. “Well, you don’t have a choice.” 

“How do I renounce you?” Damian asked, voice cold and steely. “Tell me.” 

Tikki sighed. “Fine. Just say ‘Tikki, Spots on’.” 

Clearly, Damian wasn’t thinking. Before he knew it, the Kwami had transformed the spotted earrings in the box into a spotted ring- Ad had placed it on him- And the next thing he knew, he was standing in a spotted spandex. Wonderful.

He couldn't believe he’ d been tricked by a small fairy Kwami. He asked for her to come back out, but she didn't, which was very upsetting for the vigilante standing in a spotted spandex that he found absolutely embarrassing. But then the radio sparkled to life. 

“Paris has never seen these things before! A stone monster is terrorizing Paris, destroying buildings, and the monster won't be stopped by the police! Who will save us?” The news reported sounded genuinely terrifed. 

Sighing, Damian- In a spotted spandex- Decided that, fine, he’d have to save the day in a spotted spandex. 

---

“Mama, I’m home!” Marinette calls out cheerily. 

“Oh honey, thank god you’re safe. There’s a monster all over the news channel!” Sabine thanked, hugging her daughter. 

“I’m fine, mom.” Marinette chuckled, heading up to her room, uncaring of the monster raging outside. 

As she set down her bag and unpacked to start on her homework, she couldn't help but notice an unfamiliar hexagonal box in her bag. 

“What’s this?” Marinette murmured, opening the box in curiosity.

“I’m Plagg, and I’m your Kwami.” The black thing flew out of the box, speaking in a bored tone. Marinette screeched, dropping the box and backtracking from the creature. 

“MOM! THere’s a- A- A FLYING COCKROACH!” She screamed, swatting the thing away. The cat Kwami panicked, shushing her by sealing her lips with his tiny hands. 

“SHUSH! SHUSH!” He hissed. “I”m not a cockroach! I’m so much more above those pests.” 

Marinette panted, staring at the thing sitting on her nose. “Then what are you?” 

“You’d have known if you listened before you started screaming like crazy.” Plagg tsked in annoyance. After explaining everything, including her powers and such, he told her the magic words.

“So, I just say Plagg, claws out?” It came out as more of a question than a command, but that started off the transformation nonetheless. 

Oh joy.

---

“The stone monsters are still raging through Paris- That’s right, there’s more that one now. However, there is now hope for the people! A superhero in a spotted suit has shown up, swinging from building to building! Paris has hope, so hang on, people!” 

Marinette- Transformed- Listened to the news report downstairs, eyes wide in horror. “Well, I guess I have to go help the superhero?” She sounded unsure of herself, but she unlatched the window, sticking a leg out. Plagg had said that she couldn't let anyone know of her identity, so she’d have to sneak past her parents. 

Taking a deep breath, the girl murmured to herself under her breath. “Here’s to nothing.” 

---

It wasn't that hard to find him. 

He was making a horrible racket, swinging as he attacked the monsters, desperately trying to find the ‘akumatised’ item, as he’d gathered after he returned to Fu’s place to ask Wayzz ‘What the heck, I can’t kill them’.

A black-clad figure had appeared to help him out, and between both of them, they made an even bigger racket. Marinette- Still nameless- Had realized with a jolt that the monster was one of her classmates. 

Together, they led the monster into the auditorium, where fewer people would get hurt. Damian had given the black-dressed girl a point for that thought grudgingly. 

“His fist!” The girl had yelled, gesturing to the monster. Damian realized that yeah, the monster never unclenched his fist. That must be where the akuma was, he thought. Grudgingly giving the girl another point for cleverness, Damian swooped down with his yoyo thing (He preferred his grappling hook) and tried to open the fist- But failed- And was sent flying across the auditorium. Ouch. 

“Maybe- Maybe!” The girl had yelled, letting the monster pick her up without a fight. He had furrowed his eyebrows at her, thinking ‘What a stupid move’, but then he realized what she was trying to do. And gave her one more point. 

Eventually, they got a hold of his akuma thingy- With the help of him yelling ‘Lucky Charm’ (He swore he’d never do it again). She’d Cataclymsed it, and he, after some fiddling with that darned yoyo, managed to catch the butterfly. 

“You did a good job out there, just now.” He admitted grudgingly. 

“You too.” She smiled sweetly at him, being slightly nervous, he noticed, as she fiddled with her baton thing. “Um, you are?” 

Shit. 

He didn't think of a name! Fumbling with his words, he spluttered out: “Uh, Lordbug.” He said simply, his French rolling smoothly off his tongue.. He wasn’t intending on using the Kwami ever again, so it didn't matter. “And you?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

She pondered for a while. Then she smiled. “Kitty Noir.” 

@ozmav @maribat-archive 

(Leave a message below if you want to be in the tag list. This series is going to be one heck of a long one.) 

[mister-fleck]

relax: arthur fleck x sophie

prompt: “Could you write arthur/sophie nsfw? I imagine him as less experienced than her, but so excited and happy to what’s going on.”

Arthur struck his lighter once, twice, three times before taking a deep pull off of his cigarette.

A week had gone by since Hoyt had fired him. That particular phone call still made Arthur’s cheeks burn with shame whenever he thought back on it — which was often. The whole ordeal skyrocketed Arthur’s already prominent amount of stress. Cash had grown tight, not that he had all that much saved up to begin with, and Arthur had been forced to take a step back and reevaluate how to spend what little change he had left. 

And it was imperative that he did so. Arthur didn’t have the greatest resume, certainly no college degree, and the faded homeschooled certificate he kept stapled to it didn’t mean anything when it came to employers. Who in their right mind would hire somebody whose main credentials were clown and nice guy?

Due to the current hardship that life always seemed to throw at him, Arthur had disciplined himself into smoking less. He couldn’t afford the luxury of smoking two packs a day anymore, not with the responsibility of feeding his mother and paying the landlord. 

He had waited all day to smoke this cigarette. Arthur had told himself that he would be rewarded with it at the end of the day, but only if he pushed himself out of his comfort zone to apply for work elsewhere. Interviews were always at the top of Arthur’s list when it came to what made him nervous. And nervousness led to anxiety, which led to paranoia, which led to laughter…

Today hadn’t gone any differently. Nobody even remotely considered him — Arthur had consistently struggled to find the right words to sell himself as a diligent employee. Which was frustrating, because Arthur knew he was a  hard worker. He put his heart and soul into everything he did, especially when there was the possibility of failure. Yet none of this mattered, not when Arthur could only shrug and grasp at his throat when asked: where do you see yourself in five years?

But he had tried. Arthur had gotten dressed, combed back his hair, and put in the effort to further his life in this dreadful city called Gotham, so he deserved this damn cigarette. 

Shoving his cold hands into his pockets, Arthur let the smoke travel into the furthest parts of his body before exhaling it during his walk home. 

“C’mon, we’ve got to hurry it up. It’ll get cold out soon, baby girl.” 

Arthur lifted his gaze from the filthy sidewalk and was met with the vision of a slender woman rounding the street corner, hand in hand with a little girl.

His cigarette nearly fell from between his lips. Sophie.

After their short encounter in the elevator, Arthur had developed a serious crush. He could count on his fingers how many women had offered him the time of day, let alone smile in his general direction — so their brief moment, no matter how insignificant it may have been for her, had been imprinted on his heart. 

Arthur wasn’t proud of how he had followed her to work the day after. He hadn’t planned on it — Arthur had been on his way to the drug store when he spotted her leaving the apartment building, and well… he couldn’t stop himself. She pulled him forward unknowingly, like some sort of unrequited magnet. 

He had even imagined her showing up at his apartment, flirting with him in his door way. Calling him funny. 

And now they were walking in the same direction, the pair a few buildings away, their strides brisk. Sophie’s daughter was holding a red balloon and seemed to be disappearing in the fluffy winter jacket that she was bundled up in. Arthur’s eyes fell to their joined hands and envied the sight for more reasons than one. 

“Gigi, come back here!”

Sophie’s sudden demand pulled Arthur out of his thoughts and he focused on what was playing out before him: the red balloon was now a few feet away from the two of them, most likely having been blown away from the late October breeze, and Gigi’s little feet were pitter-pattering in the same direction, determined to catch it.

Right into oncoming traffic. 

Breath hitching, Arthur tossed aside his cigarette and broke into a clumsy sprint toward the child without hesitation, nearly falling flat on his face in the process, but managed to grab Gigi by the back of her coat and yank her onto the sidewalk before a taxi cab could smack right into the side of her. 

The rest was a blur. Arthur’s throat clenched and unclenched as he knelt on the sidewalk, his lungs burning, his nose pink and itchy from the chill. He heard Sophie scold her daughter somewhere behind him, her voice tight with concern and anger and thick with tears. A soft hand fell against his shoulder soon thereafter. 

“Jesus Christ, thank you so much, are you okay?”

Arthur began to laugh. 

It came out in sharp bursts, loud and jagged, each peal like a bruising kick to his chest. Mortified and nearly hyperventilating, Arthur buried his face in the crook of his elbow and fought off the urge to curl up into the fetal position. He clenched his fist and slammed it once against the pavement as he drowned in his own self-hatred. 

The hand on his shoulder retreated and Arthur’s heart broke. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let this be how Sophie perceived him, not as some delusional sicko devoid of empathy. Anguished, he dug around in his pants pocket until he felt thin plastic and held the card up over his head as he succumbed to more agonizing laughter. 

To his embarrassment, it took Arthur nearly a full minute to calm down, and by then he had accepted the fact that Sophie had probably left him there out of pity. But as he lifted his head, now throbbing and heavy, Arthur saw that she was kneeling beside him, dark eyes wide with worry.

Sophie smiled sadly at him, but didn’t move away. Instead, she parted her lips. “Hey.” 

Arthur, out of his mind and abruptly infatuated, returned the favor. “Hey.”

An hour later, Arthur found himself seated in Sophie’s apartment, perched nervously on the edge of her couch with his hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. He turned the mug over and smiled at the messy, painted lettering splayed across it: Best Mommy Ever. 

Arthur’s heart had been hammering away ever since Sophie had invited him back to her place. He had politely insisted that repaying him wasn’t necessary, but thankfully she was insistent on patching up his banged up hand. 

“Thank you for waiting,” Sophie murmured, reemerging from Gigi’s bedroom. “Had to check under the little one’s bed for monsters. You know how children can be.”

With the way Sophie looked in her sweater and leggings, Arthur felt like a little kid himself, dazed and bashful in her presence. He smiled up at her. 

“I used to work with them,” he heard himself admit, knees pressed together and ears heating up. “I’d entertain the kids down at Gotham Children’s Hospital.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. “I’m a party clown.”

Sophie broke out into a bright grin and Arthur could have passed out. “Really? That’s so sweet, Arthur.” She rounded the couch to sit next to him, not too close, but not far away either. “That’s your name, right? Arthur Fleck?”

Please never stop saying my name. “Yes. Arthur.” 

Picking up her own mug from the coffee table in front of them, Sophie leaned back into the couch and crossed one long leg over the other. “I’ve always liked that name.” 

She took a sip. Arthur mimicked her, letting the hot liquid soothe his throat. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s sweet. And distinguished.”

Looking down at his wrinkled jacket and beat up corduroy slacks, Arthur lifted one of his shoulders quietly. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been distinguished, but I try my best to be sweet.” His voice was small, meek. 

“You’re kind of precious, you know that?” Sophie commented bluntly, her eyes flitting about him. “My neighbor said that you were kind of a creep, but I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

Arthur sagged a little. “They said that?” Hoping to rectify his reputation, he leant forward slightly, earnestly. “I swear, I’m a good guy, I’m just a little…”

“Shy.” Sophie finished for him, still smiling. 

She was the sun. She was the moon, the stars, the unimaginable in-between. Arthur’s pulse skipped. “Yeah.”

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, but midway through the evening news Sophie had allowed herself to scoot closer, resting her head against his shoulder and lifting her legs up onto the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. He didn’t breathe for a solid two minutes, unaware of what god to thank for blessing him. 

Sophie’s voice came softly, “Is it okay if I…?” 

Arthur looked down to see one of her delicate, feminine hands tugging at his sleeve and he nodded fervently, lifting his arm so she could curl up underneath it. Content, Sophie hummed and went back to watching the weather man on the small television set across from them. 

He could have cried. Arthur didn’t know whether to feel confident or insecure — she had to have felt comfortable around him to be so intimate, which majorly stroked his ego, but did she simply feel obligated to be kind to him, after how he saved her daughter? Did Sophie mind that he smelled like cigarettes and cheap laundry detergent? Was he too thin, too bony to rest against? Was he —

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

Arthur’s thoughts halted. He felt his mouth go dry. “I’m sorry.”

Sophie reached out and squeezed his knee. “Relax. You deserve to, you know.”

“Are you real?” He had blurted it out without thinking, a tremble in his voice. It was a strange combination, Arthur realized, to be smitten and terrified all at once. 

He felt her body shake with soft laughter. “You’re so funny, Arthur.” 

You’re so funny, Arthur. 

Arthur’s heart began to break. He cursed his overactive imagination and squeezed his eyes tight, words tumbling out haphazardly, “It’s just, you’re so kind to me, and you’re beautiful, and I would hate it if you were… if you weren’t…” He struggled to find the right words, as usual. “If I was dreaming.”

There was movement against him, careful and gentle, and when Arthur opened his eyes he found Sophie much, much closer. Straddling his lap. Smirking at him. 

“Does this feel like a dream?”

Both so slowly and all at once, Sophie cradled his face in her hands and captured his mouth in a warm kiss. 

The world faded away. For the first time all night, Arthur allowed himself to turn off his brain and just enjoy her, her company, the way her body fit perfectly in his arms — which were now wrapped carefully, tenderly around her — the way her fingernails felt as they scratched affectionately against the back of his neck before sinking into his hair. 

They kissed for a long time, languidly, unhurried. Not even the opening theme to The Murray Franklin Show could pull him out of this moment, not with how Sophie was beginning to roll her hips and nibble at his bottom lip. 

Arthur was hard instantly, despite how innocently he was maintaining his posture, how modestly he was holding the woman. Sophie must have noticed though, because she pulled back with a vixen-like grin, the both of them out of breath. 

“Sorry,” Arthur rasped, a bit of a grimace on his face as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips up into her.

Sophie’s face was flushed as she stole another kiss, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, “You really are precious.” 

Sensing his distress, she reached back to take one of Arthur’s hands and guided it wordlessly down the front of her pants and over drenched panties. 

Arthur’s cock twitched in his underwear. “Oh, god…” 

The both of them sat panting, foreheads pressed together, adjusting to the fact that they were now openly expressing how much they wanted one another in this moment.

“Touch me,” Sophie prompted, a shaky whisper.

Arthur shuddered, swallowed hard. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Horribly inexperienced, Arthur nodded and cautiously dipped his fingertips beneath her panties and let them slide against slick, swollen flesh. He groaned softly and let his gaze fall, hypnotized by the sight of his hand lost behind the fabric. 

Sophie whimpered immediately, hands back in Arthur’s hair. He began to rub little circles right where she needed it most. “U-Uh huh, just like that. Fuck.”

Arthur was flying high. He hadn’t managed to mess up all night, which in turn led him to think that this may still all be some very vivid dream, but the way Sophie’s lithe little body trembled against him, how soaked his hand became as the minutes went by of him teasing her — that was enough to make him feel tall, broad. Like a man.

Soon, Sophie was shaking like a leaf and squeezing at Arthur’s shoulders insistently. “Take…Take my pants off.”

Arthur blinked in surprise, but he didn’t need to be asked twice. He retreated his wet hand — earning him a sharp gasp from Sophie — and helped her wriggle out of her leggings and panties. They were both a little clumsy and began to chuckle, but Arthur’s laughter turned into a moan when her hand palmed at his crotch.

“S-Sophie, you don’t have to—“ 

“Shh,” she cooed. “I want to make you feel good.” 

His chest began to heave in anticipation and Arthur knew he had to be honest with her before they went any further. “I’ve never done this before.” 

Sophie hummed, kissed him hotly. He heard the metallic scratching of his zipper being pulled down. “Then let me teach you.”

All he could do was nod and look up at her, pupils dilated, pulse skyrocketing. He wiped his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants before scooting back to allow Sophie to pull his throbbing erection out of his briefs. 

“Wow,” Sophie breathed, skimming the pad of her thumb over the tip of his cock and eying the size of him. “Good for you, Arthur.” 

Arthur’s chest swelled with pride, feeling validated and maybe even attractive for the first time in his entire life, but he didn’t let it get to his head. He couldn’t, not with the way Sophie had wrapped her fist around him and was beginning to stroke him lazily. 

A whine tore out of his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he managed to say, seeing stars and shuddering.

Sophie licked her lips and shook her head briefly, her voice low with lust, “That’s— That’s fine. I’m on birth control.” 

“Oh,” Arthur replied lamely, a bit strangled. “Okay.”

“Arthur?”

Green eyes lifted to brown. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.” 

Arthur surged forward and did as he was told, and she swallowed his moan when he realized that she was about to straddle him in an entirely different way. He wasn’t sure of where to put his hands, whether it would be impolite to take her by the hips, or too awkward to keep them at his sides, so he gingerly held her face instead and braced himself.

Sophie felt absolutely divine as she sunk down onto him. She was warm — no, hot — and so wet, smooth and delicious and his hips jerked up as a reaction, making her squeak in pleasured surprise. 

They fell into a slow, heady, delicious rhythm, guided mostly by Sophie who seemed to be loving taking control. Arthur’s hands fell to her waist, nothing demanding but enough to express that he never wanted her to stop fucking him. 

“You feel so good,” Arthur stammered, his hot face pressed against her shoulder as she continued to ride him with leisurely rolls of her hips. He lost control a second time, his hips snapping up once more.

Sophie muffled a breathy cry into his hair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Do… do that again, baby.”

Baby. 

Tightening his grip on her waist, Arthur began to pump his hips up into her steadily now, his brow furrowed as he focused on keeping it together. “Like this?”

“God, yeah,” Sophie breathed, her head falling back in pleasure. “You’re a fast learner.” 

Arthur felt her clench around him and he hissed, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to hold off much longer. He sped up unconsciously, the sound of her ass slapping against the tops of his thighs making him dizzy.

“Sophie, I think I’m going to…” He didn’t know how to explain himself, not wanting to be crude.

“Me too,” she reassured him quickly, matching his feverish pace. The tightness in Arthur’s belly was about to snap.  Her voice grew light and needy, “With me, Arthur! Now, right now! Fuck!”  

Sophie’s pussy spasmed hard around his cock and Arthur’s vision went white as he came inside of her. The ecstasy that crashed over him seemed to last forever, intense and heavenly, and he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out. 

Almost five minutes passed before the trembling aftershocks between the two of them subsided and Sophie leaned back to press her lips to Arthur’s forehead.

“Wanna cigarette?” She murmured, threading her fingers through his hair, still very much on top of him. 

A smile slowly flirted with Arthur’s lips. “Yes, please.” 

[into-crazy]

Man Under the Makeup Pt. 5

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader series

Warnings- Cursing, doubtful thoughts?

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “Man Under the Makeup” tag lovelies!💘

You couldn't get Arthur off of your mind since that night. Going to bed every night thinking about him, to waking up wondering if he was okay. If he was still alive. Hoping he didn't get arrested. Though it's only been a couple of days- 5 to be exact- not that you're counting intentionally. Alright, alright.. Yes, you are counting intentionally. But who could blame you? It was worrying having him out there like that. Watching the news every night, Joker and the mobs tend to be the top topics.

Fire breaks out at the Wealth ball led by the Joker! Dangerous criminal Joker still at large! Violent clown group follow the Joker, shutting down major roads! All of which continue to make the headlines, and not in a good way- according to Gotham City P. D.

The only reassurance being the occasional calls you get from him. A different number each time, since he doesn't have his own line. Picking up the phone and hearing his voice on the other end, you would always exhale with relief. His calls wouldn't last too long- maybe 15 minutes at the most. Still, every call you make sure to ask how he was doing. Checking in on him.

Arthur refuses to hang up the phone until you confirmed you were fine. He tries to call every chance he gets, but he also doesn't want to overdo it. Since you work during the day, he calls more often in the evenings. Leaving sweet voicemails when you don't get the chance to answer the phone- like when you're not home yet or taking a shower.

~~

Slowly trudging through the entry doors of the complex you reside, you make way over to the mailbox area. Heavily exhaling as you stick the key into your box.

It's been a long, frustrating day. You were supposed to be home 3 fucking hours ago, however that wasn't the case. One of the other main secretaries was apparently fired yesterday. So lucky you- of course- were required to handle your regular work, AND cover for hers as well! It wasn't fair for you, having to stay longer than everyone else. Especially on a Friday night! But, that's the way it works. It's either suck it up and stay, or be fired right along with her. You've worked too hard to get this job, work in the city was difficult to come across. You can't afford to lose it when there's bills to pay and food to put on your plate.

Opening the small box, you lazily collect the contents inside. Shutting the door, you look over the mail. Junk mail.. junk mail.. water bill.. Flipping through each, one of the envelopes catches your attention. Unsealed, with child-like handwriting, it was addressed to you. Opening it, you pulled out a small, plain white card.

This reminded me of you. See you soon! Signed Arthur.

Unfolding the card, it revealed a beautifully dried flower inside. Pretty array of light pink petals, with a slim stem. A wide smile plastered across your tired face. Your mood completely turned around as happiness filled your chest. Rapidly radiating throughout the rest of your body. It's one of the sweetest gestures you received. Sweet, darling Arthur. Closing the card ever so smoothly, you head up to your apartment. Joyously awaiting his next phone call.

~~

Stepping out of a steamy shower, you heard the ringing of your phone coming from the living room. Wrapping a towel around your freshly clean body, you hurriedly make way to the phone. Each step leaving a trail of water behind. Snatching it off the receiver, you waste no time in answering. "Hello?"

"Hey y/n," Arthur calmly speaks, groaning slightly at the sound of you. "Mmph, how nice it is to hear your lovely voice. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

He has this way of speaking to you sometimes that gets you weak in the knees and full in the chest. Starting out super brazen with his words- telling exactly what's on his mind, a deep husk in his voice. Then quickly shying back, higher pitched with a more considerate remark.

"Never. It's always nice hearing from you," you tuck the phone between your ear and shoulder. Taking a brush, running it through your wet locks. You can hear an ongoing noise in the distance. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"I am now," he acknowledges, "I'm calling you from a payphone, farther down the street from the crowd."

You giggle, picturing him all clowned up standing in a phone booth. Hunched over, with the phone glued to his ear. Trying his hardest to confide your conversation more than what it already is. "Glad you could call. I received your card earlier," you return.

"Oh," he replies enthusiastically, "I was hoping you would."

"It's beautiful, thank you." You reply, lightly tracing the brush bristles with your fingertips.

"N-no need to thank me," he continues bashfully, "I'm sorry I've been so busy lately." He curses himself for not having the time to see you. Caught up with wrecking havoc throughout the city, it's hard enough as is to catch a break for himself. But the last thing he'd want, is you to feel inclined being put second to anything.

"It's okay Arthur," acknowledging you understand. Though it does bother you, you won't let him know it. You fully understand that he has to do what he has to do.

"No, it's not. I haven't made the effort to see you, but I will. I will make the time for you, y/n." He promises over the line. Gazing out the window of the booth, determined on making it a top priority. Because right now, you are his only real priority. Sure, running a gang, robbing banks, and torching buildings is fun and all. But at the end of the day, who is the one he calls? Who's the one he runs to? Who is the one that he- dare to admit- cares about?

Arthur kept his word. On your days off, plus select nights, he'd take you out. Of course, he always came and left as Joker. With the full on paint and costume, accompanied with at least 2 henchmen. Besides not trying to get caught, he also takes great caution in making sure no one identifies you. Upon your request, wishing to stay secluded in the privacy of your life.

It was difficult- clearing restaurants, finding empty theaters, getting him into your apartment undetected. Which wasn't really that hard once you both figured it out. It was just a matter of timing, bribing, and if it had to come down to it- threatening. But for you, it was worth it to him.

Time spent together was limited, due to him having to get back to business. By limited, it simply means he's unable to spend the night or fully remove himself from Joker- appearance wise. Never, by any means has he once rushed your valuable time together. Especially the calmer evenings which consisted of watching a flick and eating takeout in your place. He enjoys those the most.

There is just something special about being wrapped with you in the serenity of your home. Getting to witness you at your most comfortable- hair completely let down, hardly to no makeup, comfy clothes. Moments where you're both able to fully relax mentally beside one another.

He's very gentle and respectful towards you- very much Arthur. Contrary to how the Joker is with pretty much everyone else. To the world out there, he's labeled a monster. A complete, psychotic nut job with no consideration for his actions. A man who will kill anyone in his path. Cruel and heartless. You ignored all that talk. Yeah, he may be a bit extreme, but never with you.

Arthur still couldn't believe how lucky he is to have a woman like you in his life. Although he has you, he's still stuck in that "too good to be true" mindset. Been nothing but let down and hurt his entire life. By the people he considered friends, those he looked up to as role models, family.. Even his own mind gets the best of him sometimes, creating false illusions. Broken promises that he wish were true. Only tearing him down once he comes to the realization that they weren't.

Yet here you are, a beautiful light shining into his world. His body felt warm in your tender presence. He just couldn't fully grasp it. The thought that you were a hallucination pondered his mind on some occasions. Resulting in him having his panic attacks and laughing fits. Many when he's alone, and a few in your company.

However, with every word from your soothing lips, every soft embrace, each beautiful gaze when he meets your eyes- just prove to him you are in fact- real. Canceling away all those conflicting concerns. No doubt, he's falling for you. Hard.

End of part 5. Sorry it was so short!

[themusicplayedherlife]

If you have a request box and it’s open can I get a Tim x demigod reader. Tim is a son of Hermes and the reader is a daughter of Athena. The reader only likes hanging out with the seven pulse Nico, Will, Grover, and Calyps. The adult figures are Mr. D and Chiron. She only hangs out with the seven Nico, Will, Grover, and Calypso and had been in every quest with Percy and the rest since Percy got to camp. The reader is antisocial and an introvert. Tim somehow worms his way into her heart.

a/n: i am so sorry this is so lateeee! you have no idea how many times i started this and rewrote it. you really gave me a hard challenge lol but it’s here and i hope you like it

Tim couldn’t stop staring. He knew it was probably weird and he should look away, but it’s fascinating watching you swing your sword. You’re so graceful, so calm and collected when you flex your wrist to make a harsh cut in the air.

“What are you staring at?” is the question that drags him out of his dream like state.

Looking up, he finds his brother staring down at him. Well, not really his brother, but someone he considered as such nonetheless. They grew up together, even though they didn’t share the same god or human parent, just a legal guardian that gave them a home when all hope seemed lost. But he was as much of a brother, maybe even more, as his cabin mates were.

“Nothing,” is his nonchalant answer. Dick already knows what he’s staring at, anyway, he doesn’t even need to ask, but he loves teasing him about his crush.

Dick snorts. “Yeah, sure, I believe you.”

Practice swords clash and grunts fill the air. You stand at the ready, not giving into Percy’s playful taunts. Growing bored, Percy finally rushes at you and you easily sidestep him and swing, getting Poseidon’s son square on his back.

“Stop sulking and go talk to her,” Dick suddenly says after a beat of silence.

Tim can’t help but wrinkle his nose in annoyance. As much as he loves his brother, he really wishes he were less meddlesome.

You flip your hair back and stare down Percy as he tries to counterattack, but you get him again, right behind the knees, Annabeth shouts your praises and it causes Percy to pout and turn to look at his girlfriend, once more leaving himself wide open for you to attack.

“Easy for you to say,” Tim mumbles. “You get along with everyone.” Must be the Aphrodite genes in him.

“Because I make an effort.” Dick nudges Tim’s head with his finger before ruffling his hair just as Percy throws his sword to the ground and raises his arms. “Look, she and Percy are done training for the day, now is your chance.”

This is his chance! He hops to his feet, but suddenly his feet stop as his mind starts over thinking. What if… “What if she wants to be on her own?”

He knew how guarded you were, after all, you had been betrayed in the worst way possible. Betrayed by someone you trusted and looked up to; someone who was like an older brother to you. While Tim was hurt to find out that a housemate—a sibling no less was behind the betrayal, it didn’t have the same impact on him as it did on you. You had been devastated, full of anguish as you tried to deny what became so clear (if any of his siblings—Dick, Jason, Cassandra or Damian—did half of what Luke did, he would’ve lost his mind). He wonders if that’s why you choose to keep to yourself? Avoid the hurt that someone could cause you by keeping your friend circle so tight and close?

He’s an idiot. Of course it is.

Dick rolls his eyes. “Just go-“ he pushes him forward- “and talk to her!”

“What do I even say?” He asks in a panic.

“Ask if you can sit together for dinner!” Dick suggests. “Or if she’d like to train with you tomorrow! You got this, Timmy!”

Yeah. Yeah! He does have this! He can totally do this! Tim nods resolutely, ready to march up to you and ask if you’d like to sit with him, only to find you’re no longer on the training ground. His shoulders fall and he lets out a loud sigh.

With a sympathizing chuckle and a pat on the back, Dick says, “Next time.”

“Yeah, next time,” Tim murmurs.

He tries his luck as you’re cleaning your weapons, a hand me down celestial-bronze sword from Annabeth and two identical blades gifted to you by Damasen when you fell into Tartarus with your sister and Percy.

You were pretty territorial with your stuff, preferring to clean them and wield them yourself. He’s only ever seen you let Annabeth touch them, and only because she gave you your first weapon.

“Hey,” Tim speaks up slowly, gaining your attention, and you pause in your ministrations. “Um, sorry, do you mind if I—“ he points at the cleaning wax and everything you have laid out to keep your weapons in top condition.

Your eyes fall to the spread in front of you and you nod, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“Thanks,” he mutters and he gently lays out his own weapons gifted to him by Bruce. They’re not the most traditional of weapons like yours or most in camp and he can tell you’re intrigued by the way your eyes linger on them. “Uh, do you want to try using it?” he asks, motioning to his custom bo staff, made out of celestial-bronze, with his hands.

You shake your head, but the curiosity lingers in your gaze and Tim feels his heart speed up when you don’t look away. “How do you kill monsters with it?”

“I—I don’t,” he answers truthfully. “It disorients them, gives my brothers or Cass a chance to finish them off.” You nod slowly, unsure if that’s such a wise idea. Monsters don’t attack to disorient, they attack to kill, so why shouldn’t he? “But I do sometimes use it as a makeshift sword,” he jokes and for a moment he swears he hears a small puff of air that sounds kind of like a giggle.

It’s enough to have him grinning widely.

“Hey—“ a voice interrupts—Nico. When did he arrive at camp? “You done, yet?” He asks you, not even acknowledging him, which isn’t much of a surprise. Hades’ son tends to keep to himself, preferring to travel on his own, too, but occasionally he’d seek you or the others out for companionship.

“Just about,” you answer him, voice lighter and full of warmth. A tinge of envy shoots through his veins. He wonders when you’ll be able to direct that voice in his direction. “Give me a moment to wipe off—there.” You pause and your eyes lock with his for just a moment. “Do you mind putting all of this away?”

“No,” he answers dumbly, unable to break eye contact with you. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Drake,” you murmur and quickly put your weapons away to join Nico for who knows what.

He hopes he can spend more time with you next time.

Next time comes a lot sooner than Tim thought it would.

He can’t sleep. It’s not the first time, either. His cabin mates usually make fun of him, say his mind is always running and that’s why he’s never able to rest. He’s starting to believe there might be some truth to their words. 

With a sigh, he carefully sneaks out of the cabin, grabbing his red hoodie as he goes. He follows the path to the woods where he knows he’ll find some peace and quiet. He knows he shouldn’t stray far, even with Wayne Tech and the fleece protecting the perimeter, you could never be too careful. He doesn’t go too far from camp, but far enough where he’s sure Connor won’t find him and try to pull some kind of prank on him when he realizes he’s gone.

The twigs snap under his feet as he gets closer to the lake where all the naiads play in during the day. He knows they’re all asleep by now and shouldn’t bother him, or so he thought.

Hands wrap around his wrist, ready to throw him over their shoulder with all of their weight, but Tim is quick. He’s able to pull away and wrap his own arms around his attacker—why are they so light?—and is able to throw them both on the ground where he successfully managed to pin them down. 

Peering down at the person pinned beneath him, his eyes widening almost comically, embarrassment finding a home on his cheeks. Shit.

“Drake?” Your eyes are just as wide and shocked as his, mouth parted slightly as you stare up at him unblinkingly.

Your name falls from his lips the same way, unsure if it’s really you beneath him right now or some kind of mind trick.

The shock drains from your eyes and you grow serious, suddenly bucking him off of you. He gets the hint and quickly scrambles to his feet.

“I’m sorry, you just grabbed me and I—“

You ignore his rambling, wiping dirt off of your pants. “Why are you out here? You know it’s dangerous.”

His brows furrow and he fixes his hoodie. “Could say the same to you.”

You eye him, head tilting and he has to tell himself to keep eye contact—don’t break, don’t break. He swears he can get lost in those endless shimmering eyes of yours. You sigh and turn away first and Tim let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” he answers, voice coming out as a broken squeak. He curses himself for not keeping his voice leveled. He really has it bad doesn’t he?

You don’t say anything, instead you head towards a small patch of grass by the glistening water of the lake and plop down. You bring your knees up to your chest and you just sit there, and Tim doesn’t know how, but he somehow manages to find the courage and strength to drop himself down beside you.

He waits for a beat, and when you don’t tell him to leave, he relaxes, one leg stretched outward and his palms resting against the ground as he leans back.

You spend the rest of the night in companionable silence.

Tim thankfully has the option to opt out of Capture the Flag this week. On his mini quest with Jason and Cassandra, he got hurt pretty bad saving a child from a wild hellhound terrorizing a small town on the outskirts of Gotham. Not that he’s happy that he got hurt, because ouch hellhound teeth digging into skin is the worst thing he has experienced, and that’s saying a lot as a Demi-god and Robin.

Don’t get him wrong, he gets why everyone gets super excited about it, but sometimes—members of the Ares cabin, like Jason, especially—get super competitive and it becomes this whole thing where everyone fights all day and they take more jabs at one another than usual.

“You still ain’t good, kid?”

Tim spares a glance over his shoulder at Jason, who is geared up and ready. Dick and Cassandra flank his sides both in their own personal gear.

“Hellhound got me pretty good.”

Dick ruffles his hair. “I’ll see if I can get Chiron to spare some Nectar or Ambrosia after the game.”

He had some when he arrived at camp, but it wasn’t enough for a Hellhound bite apparently. “That’d be great. Thanks, Dick.”

“Stay safe,” Cassandra mutters patting his arm before making her way over to her other team members with excitement. He forgets how much she loves Capture the Flag.

Dick shakes his head and Jason chuckles lowly, the two following after her.

“Good luck!”

“Won’t need it,” Jason barks back at him, smirking.

He rolls his eyes and pities the fool that’ll have to take on his brothers and sister.

“Here,” a soft voice says just as a small bag of squared treats falls on his lap and he startles, barely catches it before it can drop to the ground. “I had some extra Ambrosia lying around.”

He blinks at the food and then up to find you looking away from him, your friends just a few feet away.

“I’ve never fought a hellhound, but Percy and Annabeth said they can be pretty vicious.”

“Are you sure—“

“Yeah,” you cut him off, finally meeting his gaze, a small smile on your beautiful face that has his heart racing and the wound in his leg throbbing. “Keep out of trouble, Tim.”

Tim. You called him Tim! This is—that’s great news! Just as he’s registering his name drop, he realizes you’re already walking away from him to join the rest of your friends waiting off to the side.

“Thanks,” he calls out to you and you glance at him over your shoulder, eyes scrunching up and lips turning up in one corner. Shit. How is it that one simple smirk can turn his world upside down and kick his heart into overdrive? It should be illegal to make someone feel so strongly as you make him feel.

If he dies from his hellhound injury right this moment, he wouldn’t regret anything in his life.

Except he would regret a couple of things. He knows over the last few years you’ve been in and out of the camp, following your sister and the rest of your friends on the prophesied quests, but he wishes he had tried to get to know you earlier. Maybe then he’d somehow be connected to your prophecies too, and he didn’t have to worry about you never coming back.

“Relax,” he hears Jason say behind him as he and his siblings wait with him for any signs of you and your friends. “She’s gone through worse trials than this and has made it out alive. She can handle finding her mother’s darn owl.”

“She’s strong,” Cassandra adds with a resolved nod, completely convinced about her words.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “She is.”

“She may have already found the owl,” Dick reassures, clapping him on his shoulder. “She’s probably on her way to Olympus to deliver it and Annabeth said that might take another week.”

Gods, he hopes not.

It’s another day, and Tim wonders if you’re okay. If you’re keeping safe and warm. He knows Frank and Piper wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you three are as thick as thieves, and trust each other with your lives, but he still can’t help it.

He thinks back on that night on the lake, how you just sat side by side in silence, and more often than not, most nights he’d find himself by that lake with you by his side.

The first time you broke the silence, you asked him more about his bo staff, asking how it worked and if he’d regret picking that as his choice of weapon. He told you it was gifted to him, and he trusted his weapon to get him out of messy situations. You just stared at him for a beat longer before nodding in understanding.

That night, after you had both went your separate ways—you to your cabin and him to his, he lay awake as his thoughts run wild.

Those nights, sitting side by side in companionable silence, or in shy conversation as you watch the water sparkle, feels so long ago now.

He grabs a rock, turning it in his hands, weighing it. He gently raises it and is about to flick his wrist to skip it across the water when a soft voice stops him, the rock falling to the ground and rolling away.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His head slowly turns, as if trying to process that familiar voice—because it can’t be! Annabeth didn’t think you’d come for another week! “Naiads aren’t fond of campers throwing things in their lake.”

He scrambles to his feet and takes in your form—apart from a scratch on your cheek, you seem okay! “You’re home!”

“I’m home,” you repeat, a slow smile making its home on your beautiful face.

Gods! He could just kiss you out of relief!

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long,” you murmur shyly and his eyes widen. “I heard from Annabeth you’ve been waiting for me.”

“No!” he interjects loudly, and the water behind him ripples. Shit. Don’t wake up the naiads, Tim! “No,” he tries again softly, “don’t apologize. I’m just, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

It’s quiet out by the lake, not a single bird to be heard or an occasional giggle from a nymph breaking curfew. It’s like everything is holding its breath, watching, waiting to see what might happen. Or maybe it’s just him.

“Okay,” you bend slowly, turning away from him as your smile turns awkward, strained, “well, I just wanted to let you know I’m back, so—“

His hand reaches for your wrist without thinking and you stare at him, smile falling from your face, but you don’t look scared. Your head only tilts and your eyes sparkle with the reflection of the stars, and he knows you’re only curious.

He’s curious, too. Why did he stop you?

“I—“ he closes his mouth, unsure of what to say exactly. His hand drops to his side and he berated himself. He’s already made a fool of himself, no need to keep doing it.

You sigh gently, facing away from him for a moment before taking a couple of steps to stand right in front of him, the tips of your shoes almost touching his. He has to resist the urge to hold his breath, because wow, you’re even more beautiful up close. “Tim, do you—do you like me?”

“What?” he asks dumbly, having not expected you to ask that of all things.

Heat radiated off your pores, eyes drooping and a sweet flush beginning to appear on your skin. “Sorry, I—wow. I’m an idiot. Um. I’m sorry, forget I asked that—“

Before Tim knows what he’s doing, his hands have somehow made a home on your warm skin, and he watches as your eyes widen, mouth parting in a silent question. He knows he’s being oddly intimate, but he didn’t know what else to do! Probably not this! But you’re not pushing him away so that’s a good sign, right? “I—I do,” he admits. “I do like you. I like you a lot. Since the moment my siblings and I arrived and I saw you training with Annabeth.”

“That was so long ago, Tim,” you say, voice a little breathless and he really hopes he hasn’t creeped you out.

“I—I know, but you looked so cool telling her to stop taking it easy on you.”

“I was annoyed,” you whisper.

“Yeah.” He grins slowly, almost in a haze. “But I thought you looked cool.” Your eyes drop to his hoodie as his hands drop to his side. “I just—I just thought you should know since you were asking and—“

“I like you, too,” you admit shyly, eyes meeting his and he swears he can see himself reflected in your eyes surrounded by stars instead of these dark trees. “Somehow, someway, you’ve worked yourself into my heart, Timothy Drake.”

“Oh, man!” He can’t help but laugh, nerves finally slipping from his tense bones, an unfamiliar heat taking over every piece of him. And he wonders if this is what true happiness feels like? “Can I—“ he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you?”

When you nod bashfully, he presses his lips against yours, relishing on the softness of them as your hands cup the back of his neck, and gods, he could just laugh again because this doesn’t feel real. You don’t feel real, but you are real, and you’re so sweet and soft and he can keep kissing you all night, but it’s a shame you both need to breathe at some point. And so, reluctantly he pulls away, only to press his forehead against yours.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow?” he asks, breath fanning over your lips.

You chuckle and he smiles. “I’ll have dinner with you every night, Tim.”

[heartless-error]

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 1

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating: General, family feels, hurt/comfort

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Broken, not perfect, but together.

Chapter 1

 Now.

 “Akhi.”

 That was a harsh word for Damian, or at least it had been in the past.

 “Akhi.”

 He was sure that nine or eight years ago, his preadolescent and irascible himself, full of anger and new in Gotham with a new family of strangers who seemed to reject all ways of life he had known until then, would have think twice before associate someone to that word deliberately.

Because brotherhood implied respect, feelings and emotions towards someone or several people. People who could take advantage of his weakness, his vulnerability in an instant and stand above him to see him fall in this cruel world. Because emotions make you weak, vulnerable, volatile, and if you’re not careful, you can die. Or at least that was the league of assassins taught him.

 Maybe they were right.

 However, Damian was equally sure that he was suffering a severe concussion. And he should get up quickly before the rogues flee out of there or finish the job, whichever they decide first, but none would be good news for him.

 “Dam…! Answ…!”

 His ears were ringing, he couldn’t hear well and only was able to recognize an annoying and loud static sound, mixed with broken and cut off words on the comms. He wanted to answer, really, but his body was partially numb, he was breathing hard, his head was fuzzy, and he wasn’t sure if the wet sensation in the side of his head was because the sweat or the blood.

 Probably it was blood.

 “Da…ian!”

 Inhaling, he barely raised his hand to touch his temple, feeling his body heavy and shivering in pain, but his left side completely slept. And he knew he should get up from the floor, he had to, the dust and grit were very uncomfortable, he was coughing for a while and on top of that all of this is difficult to clean later, but the world was spinning and he knew he was utterly fucked when his hand covered in his own blood fell on the floor.

 He wanted to focus for a moment, his blurred vision going through the ground, but his head throbbed with pain again and he couldn’t register beyond the static noises and the chaos around him. People were running away as the fire spread, the cries of the wounded could be hear in the distance and the calling of those who decided to help after the disaster too.

A neon sign, pink and green, blinked until the last breath between the rubble, barely recognizable and a few meters from him. It looked like it was laughing at him, because it was his fall, his distraction before the blast hit.

 “Ans…r!”

 Damian knew it was a terrible idea going to Gamorra. This operation was destinated to end like this or even worse and follow the steps of a new and a rookie terrorist organization so hastily and without thinking was stupid, especially when their businesses led them to this place.

But Damian needed to do it, he needed to get away from everything today, specially today. He didn’t want to look back, he didn’t want to look at Batman, or Nightwing, or Batgirl, or anyone. Neither go to the cave, or Gotham, or talk to anyone, or know anything. No, he didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to think, even if that means he would end up dazed, wounded and pitiful under some rubble in Gamorra island after an explosion that certain terrorists considerated necessary to cover their tracks after knew someone was looking around for them.

 “Akhi…”

 If they could see him now… Pathetic.

 Still dizzy and bleeding, in another big mistake he tried to get up, but his head exploded again in protest, his body shuddered in twinges of pain. He could have a broken rib, maybe two, and If he didn’t pass out in a few minutes maybe he could know finally if the heavy weight on his left side were more rubble or not, he wasn’t sure.

What was clear, even in his pitiful state, is that go after terrorists to another country to end up bleeding in the ground it isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but it wasn’t the worst at least.

 “I… oming! Hol… n!”

 The voice on the comms was still screaming, scared and worried. Again, he would like to answer, but now he could barely hear well, and the more time passed it was harder to maintain consciousness. His vision was getting dark at its edges and each second his mind was numbest.

 This idea was so, so bad. Surely his pride will be hurt in many ways when he wakes up, not to mention the discussion that will follow after that and all the disapproving looks that he will receive because of this damn explosion, which, in his defense, it shouldn’t have been that big.

But at the time it was a good idea, you know, a fantastic idea. Because he will receive the disapproving looks whatever he do, he didn’t have to think too much to hit a rogue, he wouldn’t have to feel the growing and suffocating tension of the batcave while he was in Zodome, and on top of that, if he was away from Gotham it would be easy not to look at the calendar and sink into guilt and resentment because of the day it was.

 But, in his haste to hit someone and forget, Damian was wrong, that plan had a few mistakes, quite significant, and should have been considered. Because it wasn’t necessary to flew away from Gotham to remember the day, guilt would chase him even if he couldn’t look a single calendar in years, and the cave wasn’t the only place full of memories.

A neon sign was enough to distract him, to freeze him, to make him stop enough to not react at the explosion.

 “I’m sorry…”

 He could no longer hear the voice on the comms, he would faint in any moment, and his mind was randomly spitting out apologies and calls to his brothers, again and again while his vision was blurred but still fixed on the bar’s neon sign.

He vaguely remembered a story told on a rooftop, with laughs, drinks and Chinese takeout. An anecdote about how certain vigilantes entered in a bar with a pink, green neon sign in Zodome was told, they drank, they talked (“I can’t be here.” “Who you’re gonna tell? Dick?”), and then they kicked the bad guys to defeat Mother.

 And now, that place was nothing but rubble, Damian buried in them. How ironic.

 “Tim… Jason…” He called them again before passing out completely.

 ~ 0.0 ~

 “Damian.” Someone said gently to his side. “Wake up.”

 That voice, so calm and irritating as ever, along with the sound of movement at his side, was what disturbed his sleep, pulling him slightly from the haze and waking him up in an internal curse.

Opening his eyes, Damian blinked for a few seconds until they accustomed to the light of the room. His room, if he remembered correctly, because his desk was organized as always, the walls were of the same soft color and the sheets over him were those that Pennyworth always put there especially when he knew they were his favorite when he was injured and benched.

 Settling on the mattress and evaluating the state of his wounds while his body protested, he turned his head slightly to look with rejection at the person who had awakened him, as if he committed the greatest offense against his being.

 “Drake.” He said angrily.

 Tim, looking impassive and inscrutable as usual, was sitting on the chair placed at the side of his bed where Grayson used to tell him how his day was. But the third Robin only gave him a nod and a brief look to the tray placed on his nightstand.

 “Alfred made me bring your meal.” Ha explained with a shrug.

 Exhaling a grunt, Damian fixed his eyes on the tray and the food in there and huffed reluctantly, he wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t want to deal with this. But telling “no” to Alfred’s food while you were in bed would have the same effect as telling his father to go to therapy: none.

Moreover, he wouldn’t be facing only Alfred, because the butler had sent Drake for a reason. And he could feel it along that clear and undisguised look from those baby blues, terribly insistent, piercing, carefully assessing his wounds and shining with a silent and an imperceptible plea to get up and eat something at the same time.

 Damian swears to himself that he was sitting on the bed because he didn’t want to face Pennyworth’s disappointment, and not because the fact that Drake was quietly worried about him makes him feel warm.

So, maybe like this he gives him an example and he can use it as a coercion later when Drake ends up in the bench too. Because anyone can say how annoying he was, putting so much effort -quietly and covered- to take care of others when then he sleeps two hours a day and mix Monster and coffee in the same cup.

 “Are you going to stay here and watching?” He asks, annoyed when the teenager give him the tray and doesn’t seem to get up from the chair.

 Tim seemed to think for a moment, but when he was going to speak, presumably to spoil him or to expose a logical and irrefutable reason about why he should stay, another voice from the door interrupted.

 “I would do it too, make sure you eat, you’re a gremlin and you need to grow.”

 Damian had to bite his tongue to not insult Jason in the exact moment he saw his ugly face peering though the door. But he knew that explain to him that he was still in the growth phase and will reach his height in a few years -probably- won’t work. Because Todd only had a role when he dared to put a foot on the mansion these days: annoy.

Which is was terribly irritating, because it’s not as if Todd was in the mansion a lot, but when he did, he sure was noticed. Moreover, he barely did it, his relationship with the family remains tense and fragile, except perhaps with Drake, which is the only one who seems to stand him. But as Grayson told him before sleep, Red Hood was screwed last night (again), and Red Robin had to drag his useless ass to get healed in the medbay, which explain his presence, his bandages and his desire to drive everyone crazy.

 “Then Drake needs this more than me.” He pointed at the food. If something was clear was that he will surpass Tim, because he was already starting to catch him and that was a victory.

 “I’m not the one on the bench.” Drake said rolling his eyes. “That’s you, for reckless.”

 “You got him, Timmy.” Exclaimed Jason as he entered the room with that mocking attitude and sat on the bed, as if he could do that. “So, you know kid, you can’t give him that healthy food of yours, it won’t work, Babybird only eats coffee and takeaways, it’s part of his charm.”

 “The charm of not knowing take care of himself?” He asked raising an eyebrow at them, angrily and intrigued equally because, babybird?

 “And you are telling me this while you’re in the bench and you were knocked up yesterday in an alley, okay.” Tim snorted, pointing them out and then crossing his arms, quite annoyed.

 “I wasn’t knocked up, I was resting.” Jason emphasized, as if anyone could believe that. “And being so small, you sure get in big problems, demon spawn.”

 “Get out of my room.”

 “Ouch! That’s hurt. Right, Timtam?” To top it off, Jason seemed to have the courage to look really hurt, while Tim nodded.

 “Get. Out.”

 “We’re only making you company!”

 “I don’t want your company.” Snapped Damian at him. “It’s pitiful.”

 “But who’s better than your older brothers to distract you?” Jason asked mockingly, referring to them as his “brothers” with sarcasm.

It was known to all of them that Todd was the one who referred to their group as “family”, but he did it sarcastically and with a strong irony, so Damian doubted that he really believes that.

 “You’re not my brothers.”

 Harsh words that coincided with Jason’s irony, which Damian has repeated to them many times on countless occasions. Previously with real strength in them, believing them real and reaffirming on them, because he was the only true son, the blood son, and they were nothing. Now, however, he said it without any power, without force or actual anger, just with a scathing and a tender touch.

Normally, they answer with another joke or other insult without feeling or sorrow, because that’s how they were and how their usual relationship works.

 “It’s true, we’re not.” Tim said seriously. “That’s why we left you so easily, remember?”

 Damian froze, feeling the abrupt change of the tone and the atmosphere in the room. Cold, it was so cold, very cold and bitter. He shouldn’t have answered that, Tim shouldn’t have said that, not in that way. No, that’s not how they did this. An icy twinge pierced through him as Timothy’s words sank into his head.

He looked at him, shocked, stunned, and Drake gaze was so indifferent this time, so cold, making Damian shudder.

 “Wha-“

 He barely managed to say anything before Jason got up and looked at him in the same way, in a listless and distant anger, when just a second ago he was smiling.

 “It’s true. We’re going to leave you.” He announced in a firm and calm way, without a trace of regret on him. “To leave them.”

 He was quiet, stunned, a knot formed in his throat and words couldn’t get out. Even if they could, he would remain static, analyzing what they were saying in that cold and decisive tone.

 “We’re going to leave you, Damian.” Tim repeated. “You’re not going to see us never again.”

 “We’ll go, and you don’t matter at all.”

 “We didn’t care about you anyway.”

 “That’s why it will be so easy to leave you.”

 “We were going to do it sooner or later, like everyone, you know?”

 The illusion was broken, there was no more food tray to worry about, no soft sheets, no cozy room with them trying to make him laugh while he was in the bench. Now everything was cold, just cold, icy and painful with their words echoing around him and tearing him apart.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything. Just listen.

 “Aren’t you happy, Damian?”

 “You should be happy.”

 He wasn’t. He wasn’t.

 “Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

 “It is. Being the only child, the real.”

 “You wanted us dead, you wanted us out of here. Because we were adopted and useless. The pretenders.”

 No, he didn’t want that. He didn’t want this. He though he did, but it wasn’t true. It was the words and actions of an insecure child who grew up between violence and believing the poisonous words of those who he thought he could trust.

 “Well, congratulations, you win.”

 “We’ll leave you forever.”

 No.

 “Just as you wanted.”

 No. No. He didn’t want that. He never did.

 “Congratulations, Damian.”

 No. Please.

 “Congratulations.”

 No. Stop, not again.

 “It’s your fault.”

 It is, he knows it. He has always known.

 “Your fault. Yours alone. Always yours.”

 His fault. His fault. Is his fault, but they couldn’t leave. Not again, please.

 “Goodbye.” They said at the same time.

 The door slammed, the illusion of the dream broke and something inside Damian did it too.

 ~ 0.0 ~

 When he opened his eyes this time, he was alone, restless and laying in the last place he wanted to be.

It’s not that the beds in the medbay were uncomfortable to recover or something, at 22 years old Damian knows he probably slept more in them than in his own bed, but they are not the suitable place to have a nightmare induce by guilt and then pretend to calm down.

 Taking himself a few seconds to rest quietly, he evaluated how was his body and the damage he had suffered in the explosion. Obviously, all hurt, but he had survived worse things. If he had to guess he’d say a couple of bruised ribs, his head about to explode because of the concussion and the left side of his torso a bit hit.

To all of this, he must also add his wounded pride, disappointment, anger and a pleasant memory of a few years ago turned into a nightmare that still had him looking at the ceiling of the cave in silence.

 But something tells him that he had been very, very lucky. He had left smaller explosions than that with more injuries, and sometimes he didn’t need the explosion itself.

 “And being so small, you sure get in big problems, demon spawn.”

 Sure.

 Maybe Jason was right, even now, when he is no longer small, he faces problems and these can still knock him, even with his height. He knows he almost reached Jason’s height -maybe there’s still a few inches left- but he surpassed Tim a long time ago.

 It’s a shame he can’t prove it.

 He started to remember exactly that nightmare and the voices of his brothers full of hatred and indifference again when the door of the room opened and the only person he wanted to see now and forever entered quietly. Who, casually, was the same person who told him to go to Gamorra was an stupid idea, who had been yelling at the comms when everything gone wrong and who probably saved him and brought him back to be treated.

 Jonathan Kent, with 19 years old, dropped the clean linen which he had been carrying in his hands -possibly for him and providing by Alfred- and rushed to his side letting out a gasp when he realized he had opened his eyes.

 “Damian!” He shouted leaning on the bed and looking at him in concern. “You’re awake!”

 He should have said something witty, but he couldn’t help but wince when Jon laid in the mattress, his ribs and bruises protesting in agony.

 “I’m sorry!” He apologized, walking away immediately, more worried if possible. “Did you just wake up? How do you feel? You need something?”

 Usually, seeing Jon so frantic, worried and fluttering his hands over him without knowing what to do it’s good, but now only made him feel a little guilty, and he had a lot of that these days. Especially if he remembers how many times his partner told him how bad his idea was and how his voice sounded in panic in the comms when he couldn’t answer after the explosion.

 “I just want to sit.” He snorted, ignoring all his previous questions, leaning on his elbows and sitting up in the bed, obviously with his help. “How long have I been out?”

 “Only day and a half.” Said the super, sitting on the side of the mattress with unusual calm.

 It wasn’t much, but enough for that Jon’s presence didn’t amuse Batman at all and the situation intimidated his partner at the same time. Because it was a fact that the kryptonian had been with him, waiting him for wake up and without accepting any other alternative that would involve separate from him.

But at least, now that he’s sitting and moving, he can confirm that his injuries could have been worse. He lifted his clothes and looked at the bruised on his left side, serious and rather sleazy, nothing more. He touched lightly his ribs, and the wound and bandage on his head too. Finally, he reached the conclusion that with a few days of rest, painkillers and maybe a quiet patrol he will be okay.

 Or maybe not, because while he was valuating his state Jon had been too silent all the time, just staring and waiting, thoughtful and absorbed.

Damian lifted his head to look at him at the eyes, and when the gaze was finally returned, he knew exactly what was coming and started to prepare himself for the imminent outbreak. Jon sighed, his blue eyes flashed with determination, he took a breath and Damian could tell by the expression on his face that this could take a while.

 “You have any idea of how lucky you were?” He began to rant.

 He has, he can imagine. But instead of saying it, he reflected briefly how it was that since so soon in their youth that Jon managed to be part of that small group of people who can talk to him like that without any repercussion.

 “The explosion destroyed about five blocks away! And I’m not gonna talk about the fires from later!”

 Rare thing, because supposedly, the terrorists he was chasing shouldn’t have had material for an explosion of such dimensions, indeed, there shouldn’t have been an explosion at all. Maybe was something else?

 “I told you it was a terrible idea!” Jon snapped with that upset and sad look typical from the supers. “Did I?”

 He did, several times, yes. Which he ignored deliberately. At least it was something that hadn’t change in him after all these years, unlike his willingness to answer and retort to fight like kids when something like this happened when they were… kids.

 “I did!” He exclaimed as he pointed at him, which made him reminded Lois Lane very much when she used to spoil them years ago. “And you listened to me?”

 You only must look at him to know the answer.

 “No! Because you always do this! You didn’t even wait for me!”

 True, he didn’t wait for him. He decided to go for it alone, because it was much easy to punish himself and drown in his own regrets while he believed that Jon needed to do the same thing in Kansas while he was visiting his family.

 “I heard the explosion from the farm.” Said the other while stared at him and twisted the sheets in his hands tightly. “I was tuned because I thought… I knew you were there, and then you didn’t answer in our comms.”

 Again, Jon’s words in his ear, begging him to answer and saying he was going to find and help him, echoed in his head, making him squirm uncomfortably.

 “A-And when I arrived, everything was chaos and fire… There was so much to do, and I couldn’t help everyone. I-I found you unconscious and half buried in the rubble…”

 He has started to stammer; Damian knows where that leads.

 “You’re not invulnerable, Damian!” He cried increasingly frantic. “You could have…! You could have…!”

 Damian decided he had had enough when he realized that Jon was physically unable to finish the last sentence and his eyes had begun to glow due to hold back the tears.

So, knowing it was the best way to calm him down and let him know he was okay, he raised his arms quickly to cradle his face in his hands and bent to shut up Jon with a kiss. A firm and a simple kiss, that gave them comfort, took them back to reality and dispelled the tension in their bodies.

 When he finished, he pulled back a few inches and looked at him seriously, making sure he had his full attention.

 “I’m fine.” He said as he slightly tightened his grip on his face. “See?”

 He’s okay, he’s not dead, he’s here and they are together. He didn’t need to worry; he will recover in a few days. Jon’s not going to lose him, that’s what he needed to hear, to know, to feel desperately after having gone through all and have been waiting for him to wake up.

 Jonathan looked at him stunned, indecisive for a few seconds, assimilating the most recent events without move. Finally, when he seemed to connect everything, he blushed, reached the pillow behind Damian and proceeded to hit him several times with the minimal strength a super could have.

 “You. Are. A. Jerk!” He repeated a lot of times, along with other insults, as he hit him with the pillow.

 Damian could have complained, even fight back, or at least tell him that no matter how many times he kisses him or tell him that he is okay, his wounds doesn’t appreciate a surprise attack from an angry kryptonian with a pillow.  But he knew his boyfriend needed this, he needed to blame him after worried him that much. And a pillow fight wasn’t the best option right now, and maybe, maybe, he deserved it just a little, so he allowed him to hit him. And they say that Damian Wayne has no honor.

 By the time Jon had finished his attack, Damian had no choice but to lie back in bed, helpless and with a super on top of him, but being careful not to touch his wounds. Finally, Jon throwed the pillow around and looked at him from his position, sulking and puffing.

 “You scared me.” He declared in a whisper. “A lot.”

 “I know.” Damian nodded and stepped aside in the bed in a subtle invitation to the other.

Taking the invitation, Jon laid beside him with the utmost care and settled down to feel him close, resting his head on his shoulder and sighing heavily.

 “I’m still angry.” He murmured in a bad mood, but the way he relaxed against his side indicated the opposite.

 But Damian just nodded again. He could understand how annoying Jon was, it was fair, he would also be furious. Moreover, he was, two years ago, on this date. When Jon thought it was a great idea to get drunk in the morning with something from the space, throw away a tractor in  the afternoon because “he didn’t like the color” and have a fist fight with aliens with a possibly hostile intentions on the night.

At least two years ago Jon came out of that presumably well, which Damian couldn’t relate, because all his failure now is added to his memories and the damn date. And it was the day, right? They knew it was. That day, that date, drives them crazy and wait them to not do something stupid is impossible.

 “I understand and I know you’re sorry.” Jon ended saying on his collarbone, gloomy. Of course, he understands, he had to. “But don’t do this to me again, please.”

 Yes, he was sorry, and grateful that Jon knew him well enough to know how sorry he was, but how much he struggles to admit it. Instead, he grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers, and squeezed in response.

Both of them knew that the last thing was hard to do, seeing their records and the life they have, it was impossible, and maybe the next time it’s Damian who would have to be a day and half waiting for his boyfriend wakes up while his family watch.

 Speaking of that…

 “I don’t want to be here.” Damian whispered, staring at the ceiling of the cave again with intensity.

 “I know, me neither.” Jon admitted sinking a little closer.

 Damian tried not to think about how hard it had to be for his partner, not only having to save him and take him here to be treated and then wait, but also having to walk around the cave precisely those days and next to a broken batfamily who didn’t know how to assimilate them.

 “How much time do we have?” He asked, making calculations of those who should return soon and those who not. He knew that, no matter how worried Jon was, he was going to help him to evade the bats, to pack up and fly together to Metropolis.

 “Enough” Jon affirmed as he leaned in to kiss him softly in the cheek.

 Damian sighed, calculating their chances again. They would go anyway, this was not the first time they did it, and even with a day and a half late they had more than one reason to want to get out from the cave and leave Gotham as soon as possible.

 And if they could avoid looking at the suits of Red Robin and Red Hood exposed in the fallen’s mausoleum, the better.